


Fleeting Attachments

by HelloHoneyBee



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AU, Alien Biology, Blow Jobs, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Oral Sex, Rated Explicit for later chapters, Slow Build, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-01-06 10:43:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18386825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelloHoneyBee/pseuds/HelloHoneyBee
Summary: Jim Kirk hasn't been the kind of person to keep someone around for long. It's not that he hasn't had plenty of friends and partners over the years, it's the fact that he can't seem to fully let people get to know the real him. The only person in his life he seems to be able to depend upon is his longtime friend Bones, who is beginning to become concerned about his attachment issues. One night, Bones finally convinces Jim that making a reliable friend his own age would be good for him.The only catch is Jim gets to pick whoever he wants.And if he HAS to have a friend, he's not picking one that's gonna be easy.





	1. Order for Captain Annoying

**Author's Note:**

> Let the record show that this is my first ever Star Trek fanfiction, let alone first fanfiction I've posted on AO3. Over the years I've written quite a bit of fanfiction, but I've never actually built up the courage to post it soooo... I hope you all like it! :)

“You have attachment issues.” McCoy leaned forward in his chair, bracing his elbows on his knees and looking Jim straight in the eye. His gaze was unwavering and something about it unnerved the doctor.

Maybe he wasn't the _most_ qualified person in the world to be saying such things, but he had been required to take psychology classes throughout his time at the academy and he wasn't blind. He knew that Jim had a difficult childhood, to say the least, and it wouldn’t be unreasonable to say that he was more affected by it than he let others believe.  

“Not to butter ya up but, I’m pretty attached to our friendship, Bones.” Jim replied coolly. McCoy just huffed with defeat, finally breaking the eye contact and standing up from his seat. As made his way over to the window, he couldn’t help but just shake his head at the senseless man.

“Unfortunately. But who else can you depend on?”

“I have plenty of friends.” Jim defended.

“Sure kid, but none of which besides me you hold any real connection to. You need to talk to people your own age, make new friends–  _real friends‒_ none of that superficial crap.”

“You’re only what? Six years older than me? That hardly makes a difference.”

“Look, I’m only saying this shit because I care, but you’re not the kinda guy to stay. You talk to people constantly and sure, you do have the occasional fling, but none of it seems real to you.” He swallowed hard, knowing that what he had to say next wouldn’t be the easiest of things. “You know most of these things spawn from insecure attachment in early life or throughout childhood. You know keeping some people besides me around for longer than‒” Jim stood, cutting him off.

“Okay Bones, I get it. You don’t gotta go on another rant.”

“Well sorry, I’m trying to help! I’m a doctor, not a guidance counselor.” Jim just laughed and picked up his drink which had been left abandoned on the end table. He wasn't in the mood to drink anymore and yet downed it, knowing it'd be wrong for him to waste. After a moment of quiet contemplation, he finally spoke again.

“I get to pick.”

“You get to pick what?”

“The person. If I'm going to make a friend like you want, then I only think it fair that I would get to chose who.” Jim debated.

Bones stared, as though attempting to figure out what his motive was just by looking at him. He knew Jim for long enough to know that he wouldn't give in this easily unless he has something else in mind.

“Who?” At this, Jim smiled whilst responding in a voice hinted with mystery.

“That's a surprise.”

 

* * *

 

Pacing through the campus that morning, he surely looked like a mad man. It was seven a.m., the air was clammy to the touch, and Jim wore nothing but a long sleeve Starfleet Academy tee and a pair of tight-fitting jeans. He watched everyone who walked past him as though studying a subject in a lab, without any regard to discreteness.

Truth be told, Jim actually had no clue on who he would want to be his 'confidant’ as he was now calling it. Sure he could get just about anyone to like him, he was a smart young cadet with a name that everyone seemed to know, whether he liked it or not.

But he didn't want just anyone. Over the years he slowly found out that people were more interested in the idea of him, then the actual person. Actual Jim wasn't as fun to be around as he led everyone to believe. Not that he wasn't lively and even downright childish at times, but to believe that's how he was all the time would be believing a lie.  He could be horribly serious and at times a bit of an ass. Not to mention the fact that he spent most of his time in his dorm room either reading or immersed in research. He was a contradiction of sorts, and this made it hard for people to want to understand him. Jim needed someone who wouldn't give up.

Or at the very least, someone who would annoy the hell out of Bones.

When he could no longer take the foggy weather,  Jim made his way into the campus cafe to find more people to examine. Maybe it wasn't the best strategy to judge people by their looks alone, but how else is he supposed to judge someone he's never met before?

He opened the door to the relatively busy shop and was immediately greeted by the chime of a bell and the rush of warm, thick air that sunk deep into his skin. He hadn't realized just how cold he had been out in the morning fog.

Beginning to bask in the warm, dry atmosphere and smell of fresh coffee, he strode over to the counter. Despite the number of people, it was relatively quiet and the workers kept the line moving. When it was finally his turn to order he couldn't help but take note of his cashier.

She had the kind of face that looked like she had something else she’d rather be doing and her black hair was pinned neatly into a tight knot on the top of her head. She was pretty, Jim could say that much for her, but she also didn’t seem like the kind of girl who would like it if he told her that.

“Hi there, hun. I'll have a regular green tea, two sugars, and light ice, please.”

“Is that all?” She said with an overly professional tone.

“Yeah, that's all.” She wrote the order on a cup before rigging it into the cash register.

“That'll be $3.67.” Jim handed her a five. “Name for the order?”

“Captain Handsome.” She looked at him with a face somewhere between exhaustion and annoyance. He realized then that she might be getting the wrong idea, he was supposed to be making a friend, not hitting on the first girl he spoke to, especially when she didn't seem to be taking kindly to it. “I'm just kidding, it's Jim.” He forced a smile and thought it was probably best to just leave it at that.

When he got his drink he sat down at an empty table for two and faced the door. A small girl with a disheveled ponytail burst into the cafe and as she walked up to order, she quickly tried to tidy herself up. Jim thought about talking to her, but decided against it, seeing as she was already preoccupied and seemed in a rush.

The next person through the door was a man with a mullet and an old rock shirt. And while Jim wasn’t totally against the idea of talking to him, as the man stood next to his table to pick up his coffee, Jim couldn’t help but take note of how the man smelled like what he could only describe as ‘old person smell’.

The next was a little girl getting a hot chocolate.

And the next was a couple.

The next was an elderly woman who he helped order since she couldn’t read the board, but the conversation really didn't go anywhere from there.

And the next was a guy wearing a backwards ball cap. Which like, who wears a baseball cap backwards, let alone during winter?

The next was a man talking to himself. Which, Jim admittedly noticed later was just him talking on a Bluetooth, but still.

After almost an hour, Jim had made no progress on his ‘confidant mission’ and had already drunk three more orders of green tea. The staff at this point were most likely whispering about how he wouldn’t leave, but Jim Kirk wasn’t the kind of man who would admit defeat this easily. The very next person, he decided, would become his friend. He didn’t care at this point if it was a gust of wind. If it opened the door, he was going to woo it into friendship.

Until then, he looked down to his phone, finally addressing the messages from Bones.

**_Do you have class today?_ **

Jim chewed on the inside of his cheek as he typed out his reply.

**_No but I have an online assignment due tonight._ **

_**Lunch at Manny's?** _

**_Sure._ **Once he sent it he opened up his social media and began aimlessly scrolling until‒  

_Ding._

Jim’s head snapped up without a second thought. And there he was. Jim couldn’t help the breath that got caught in his throat. The man stood in the cafe, quietly surveying his surroundings before making his way to the counter, just like everyone else. But there was something evidently different about him. He was tall, thin, and held with him an elite sort of atmosphere, but even that's not what made him so distinct. That would have to be attributed to the fact that he not only had a hideous black bowl-cut but also peaking out from his hair was a pair of _pointed ears._

Vulcan.

From where he was sitting Jim couldn’t hear what the man ordered but immediately sprang up from his seat and got into line behind him. The Vulcan took no notice of Jim’s presence, or at the very least didn’t show his notice outright. When it was his turn he just ordered yet another free green tea refill and tried yet another smile out on the now seemingly drained cashier. She didn’t smile back but also didn’t seem as annoyed with him as before, so Jim considered that a victory.

The Vulcan was waiting by the pickup counter, his arms tucked neatly behind his back as he waited for his drink. Surprisingly, he was actually quite attractive, if you could look past the fact that he looked even less inviting of a conversation partner than that of a statue.

Still, Jim walked up and made a place next to him, noting his distance since he had heard that Vulcans value their personal space. Everything he knew about making acquaintances had to still apply though, right? He was a person too, if not just a standoffish one.

First things first though, every conversation had to start with something.

“What’d you order?” Jim finally asked, turning to the man. He watched as the Vulcan’s eyes darted over to him, as though trying to distinguish who he was talking to. After less than a beat of realization that Jim was, in fact, speaking to him, the Vulcan seemed to raise his already slanted eyebrow, an action just small enough that most people would likely not notice it. Then again, most people were not Jim Kirk.

 “I ordered a traditional Vulcan spiced tea. Why do you inquire?” His voice was clear and succinic with his answer, despite the fact that he didn’t look at him when he spoke. For some reason this made Jim want to smile again, though he held back the urge.

“Well, I usually just get the same things here. So, I guess I’m just looking for something new to try. Is it good?”

“I find it adequate. The majority of humans have noted their pleasure in its aroma and find its taste to be palatable.”

“Hm, well I’ll have to try it sometime. Do you come here often?” _Very smooth Kirk,_ he thought sarcastically.

“I patron this establishment frequently. Approximately four times in the typical week.”

“Oh, so you live around here?”

“In the general vicinity, yes.” His voice was hinted with confusion, but Jim couldn’t figure why.

“Oh cool, me too.” At this, the conversation seemed to die and Jim rocked awkwardly on his heels. After a few moments of silence, Jim couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m Jim.” He said, too fast for it to be normal.

“I had not inquired you for such information.” Well, that was like a hit to the stomach. Jim thought at this point perhaps, he was just bothering the man. He was just trying to get a drink in peace and here Jim was, trying to play twenty questions with him. It most likely didn’t help that Vulcan’s weren’t ones for small talk.

Embarrassed, Jim pulled out his cell phone and tried to not make it more awkward than it was. He took note of the time; it was already fifteen minutes past eight and he was supposed to only have popped in for a few minutes. “I am referred to as Spock.”

Jim’s head lifted with more enthusiasm than he had initially intended. It was strange, the name Spock sounded familiar, yet he wasn’t sure from where. Perhaps many Vulcan names just sounded alike? Jim didn't know enough about Vulcans to either confirm or deny such thinking.

“Well, it’s nice to meet your acquaintance Spock.” The man just replied with nothing but a curt nod but this time the silence felt comfortable. After what felt like ages, the girl at the counter walked up with a hot tea in a to-go cup and Jim’s green tea.

“Here you go, professor.” The girl said politely, handing off the hot tea to Spock. Jim went still. Spock, no wonder he knew that name. The Vulcan, or half Vulcan as Jim just realized, was an instructor of advanced phonology and exolinguistics at Starfleet Academy. He knew this, of course he did, though how could he have been so distracted to have not noticed? It wasn't like you just saw random Vulcans walking around campus all the time.

“Thank you, Cadet Uhura.” Spock said to the cashier. She smiled, something that Jim hadn’t seen her do the entire time he was here, and then turned to Jim.

“And yet another green tea for Captain Annoying.” His eyes went wide and his face burned with heat. Jim silently hoped it wasn’t that noticeable as he snatched his drink her. When he finally once again made eye contact with Spock, he couldn’t tell whether it was a good thing or not that his face hadn’t changed.

“Good day, Cadet Kirk.” Cadet Kirk. Just by first name alone, Spock already knew who he was. 

“You too.” Was all he was able to choke out as Spock made his way past him and to the door.

_Ding._

Jim stared at where the Vulcan had stood, slowly beginning to analyzing what had just happened. Jim could take being slightly obnoxious to a stranger, but everything changed when he realized he had just called one of the most hard-assed professors by his first name without a second thought. Not only that, but he chatted him up about his cafe order and personal life. Uhura was laughing to herself and Jim spun around to face her. As she wiped down the counter, she just continued to look at him and laugh.

“What?” He asked.  

“Good luck with… whatever that was.”

“Oh yeah, thanks for that.” He said sarcastically before making his way out of the cafe, hoping that the outside would cool down the still burning of his cheeks.

 _Professor Spock,_ he thought. _I bet he'll just be enthralled at the idea of being my BFF._


	2. A Lesson in Interspecies Ethics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this chapter was actually a lot harder than I intended, mostly due to the fact that I've never actually been on a date (or a not date that is). Anyways, I hope you like it!

“Aw, did you scare him away?” Uhura brought a tea out to the table and set it down in front of him. That was a first, but Jim could admit that she had been acting kinder to him these last few days. That was most likely due to the fact that since their chance encounter, Spock hadn't been in the cafe in almost a week. Or at the very least, he didn’t come in when Jim was there. Surprisingly, Jim wasn't too bothered by this fact. He didn't want to have to bump into him again. If he was going to see him, he wanted it to be in purpose this time.

“Shut it, I’m here to actually work today.”  He sighed, closing the article on his PADD and taking a sip of the green tea. 

“Is he even gay?” Jim choked. Surprised, he sat there hacking for a second before finally fought out a response.  

“What?” He said coughing. “How would I know?”

“I mean, you should probably know if the person you’re hitting on is even into men, right? I honestly wouldn’t be surprised, I heard he had a hot girlfriend or something back on Vulcan that he randomly called off the marriage to.” She paused, contemplating that scenario for a moment. “But then again, I also heard that he punched one of the officials at the VSA.” 

“I’m not hitting on Spock.” He said, ignoring that last statement.

“Why not? It's not like he’s  _ unattractive  _ or anything.”

“I trying to make fr‒” He stopped mid-sentence, deciding it would sound pretty pathetic to say that he was trying to make a friend. “Look, I was just making idle conversation.” 

“Could have fooled me.” He was just about to fire back with another defense when‒ 

_ Ding _ .

His response died on his lips. Lungs tight, his head instinctually snapped over to the door, but it wasn't him. All that stood there was a woman fiddling with an umbrella. Jim exhaled, having not realized that he was holding his breath. It was understandable that he was anxious about running into Spock again. Their last conversation was less than desirable, to say the least, and he found himself going over what had happened again and again. He wasn't usually like this, so unsure of his actions. But Spock was somewhat foreign to him and Jim was just trying to be careful not to offend him. Though, he wasn't so sure how that was working out.

Uhura mumbled something under her breath and walked back to the counter to take the woman's order. He watched them for a moment before looking back to his PADD. It was almost eight and he would have to get out of the cafe soon. It's not that he was giving up, he just wanted more time. He felt like if he talked to the man now it would just be more embarrassing than if he avoided him for a while. 

Jim quickly gathered his things and made his way over to the coat rack. Having actually remembered the dreary weather this morning, he donned his jacket, waved a farewell to Uhura, and made his way out of the cafe. 

Outside, the entirety of the campus was veiled in a light wisp of mist, that despite being oddly pretty, drew out nothing but displeasure in Jim. The wet, cool air always left him feeling chilled to the bone. He quickened his pace, not only due to the cold but also because he had his interspecies ethics class in about half an hour and room 207 was almost all the way across campus. If he wanted to be early, he would have to almost jog there. 

He slung off his coat as he made his way into the building, passing several classrooms along the way. He could hear professors ranting over abstract topics and experiments being done and the scurry of students trying to type out notes faster than the lecturer could speak. It was a comforting noise, the sound of learning. It felt safe to him, as though he was surrounded amongst that of like-minded people. As he walked into his classroom and sat down, Jim drummed aimlessly against his thighs.  

Slowly, people began filtering into the classroom and Jim pulled out his PADD to get ready for any notes that he might take. After a few moments of people chatting and taking their seats, the professor began that day’s lecture. 

“So, last class we ended our lesson over Romulan aggression and recent political movements in relations to their cultural values. Today’s plan is just to do an introduction to Vulcan society and how their cultural differences effects our relations to them.” Jim just couldn’t seem to get a break, could he? Thoughts of his failed encounter and postponed mission of friendship seemed to haunt him wherever he went. He groaned silently as she continued.

“In the past Vulcans weren’t always the logic-oriented people us humans have come to know. It took years of brutish behavior and constant waging of wars to almost drive their entire species to the breaking point.”

He listened as she talked on and on about the differences between their own human history, and that of the Vulcans. It wasn’t all that riveting to him, considering the fact that many people knew this little tarnish on the Vulcan record. Still, he tried to take down at least some notes of the subject. 

“Surak contained the idea that the root cause of all the problems on Vulcan lay in the uncontrolled expression of the people's emotions. His followers swore to live their lives by an ethical system devised by Surak and based purely on logical principles. Emotions were to be controlled and repressed.” 

_ Controlled and repressed,  _ those words stuck out to Jim. It wasn’t that Vulcan’s didn’t feel emotions, they were just overly dedicated to hiding them. Even as children, they were expected to maintain complete control of their minds. Though, how could they control something they were yet to understand? How does one repress something they have never experienced? He couldn’t imagine having to go through that and the thought of it made him somewhat sad. Emotions were what made people, well, people. 

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but think of Spock. Jim hardly knew the man, yet he felt sorry for him. He couldn’t count the number of times he had heard people in the cafeteria or one of his other classes complaining about what a hardass Spock was. He probably needed a friend more than Jim did.

When the professor finally ended the class, he packed up his things and headed back out to the campus. Jim didn't know where Spock would be right now, but he guessed he would just have to figure it out.

 

* * *

  
  


Jim sat on a wall, one hand wrapped around the toe of his shoe and the other scrolling aimlessly through a list of restaurants near him. Now that it was almost noon the dew of the morning had subsided, leaving nothing but the faint sun and a cool breeze. It was a calming and comfortable day.

Spock's lecture would end in four minutes, meaning he would then be free to talk for at least a couple of hours or so. This time, Jim was determined to not be taken by surprise. After finding his classroom, Jim had been sitting outside for a few minutes, stomach gurgling quietly. If he were a different person, he might feel strange about how he was acting. Though, Jim just hoped that Spock would be willing to get lunch since he was basically starving.  

He clicked on a restaurant to look at just students began pouring out of the lecture hall. Then, after a few minutes, Spock strode out after them. 

“Professor Spock.” Jim popped up from where he was sitting so that the two of them were standing face to face. He took note of the slight widening of Spock's eyes and the way his perfectly straight bangs were now somewhat tousled by the wind. 

“Cadet Kirk.” It was strange to call each other by such names, considering the fact that they were only three years apart in age, but he wasn't going to comment on it now.

“You have a break in classes now, right?” 

“Correct…” Spock said with the slightest question in his voice.

“Well great, so do I, and I was thinking that the two of us could go get some lunch.” Spock studied him for a moment before responding.

“May I inquire the purpose of this endeavor?”

“Companionship and sustenance.” He said, perhaps in too much of a mocking tone.

“And this must be done with me?” He didn't seem annoyed, more confused if anything.

“It  _ must _ be done with no one. I'm just asking if you would like to get lunch with me.” He paused, trying to figure out how to properly explain it. “You know you don't have to go if you don't want to?”

“I am...willing to accept your invitation.” Jim couldn't help the smile that spread across his lips. 

“Cool, let's go.” After saying this, he begins walking down the sidewalk, Spock trailing close. “First things first though, you're gonna have to stop calling me ‘Cadet Kirk’ all the time. It sounds too clunky, especially if we're gonna be hanging out.” 

“That is unprofessional.” Jim watched as he knitted his brow.

“Well, we're not currently in a professional environment, not to mention that I don't take any of your classes.”

“What would you prefer I call you?” Spock asks as they make their way across the street. 

“Well, you could call me Kirk if you'd like, a lot of my classmates call me that. Though, my friends call me Jim.”

“I inquired for that of your preference, not those of others.” 

Jim laughed at this as they walked into the restaurant. It was small, yet not overly crowded with students. The entire place was enveloped in a sweet smell that he really couldn't put his finger on, but he liked it nonetheless.

“Jim‒ I’d prefer if you’d call me Jim.” He said quietly as the host walked up to them. 

“Two?” He asked. Jim just nodded and the two of them followed as he began leading them to their table. It was a quaint place with lots of brights colors and warm light flooding in through the windows. He was glad that it seemed nice enough, considering the fact that he only glanced at it for a moment before deciding to go here.

When they finally sat down and ordered their drinks, Spock once again began speaking.

“If we are disregarding formalities, then you are permitted to call me Spock.” He said, taking to rearranging his napkin and utensils instead of looking at him. Though, Jim didn't really seem to mind this fact.

“Okay then, now that we got that out of the way, what do you want to talk about?”

“I care little for the activity known to humans as ‘small talk’ and therefore I can express no opinions one way or another.” Jim flashed him a face of skepticism.

“So what, would you rather just sit here in silence?”

“I hold no preference to whether or not we chose to engage in conversation, though I will participate if you so chose so.”

“You realize you’re already engaging with me in a conversation right now, right?” Jim laughed yet again. There was something about Spock, perhaps the way that he couldn’t just take anything at face value, that just made Kirk want to talk to him more. He was so different from anyone he had ever spoken to, and he believed that wasn’t entirely due to the fact that he was Vulcan.

“Yes, I have realized such.” He said as the waiter brought their drinks over and set the glasses down. Jim was surprised it had taken him that long, considering the fact that they both had just ordered water, but he didn’t really mind. What he did mind though was the strange look the waiter was giving the two of them. The man was small with beady eyes and it reminded Jim of a mouse. He wanted to bring up the look, but then again he didn’t care enough and Spock didn't seem to notice. 

_ He must be used to it, _ Jim thought

“Are you two ready to order?” He squeaked. 

Jim nodded, ordering something that’s description made it sound vaguely like tacos. When he was done, Spock ordered something Jim couldn’t even imagine having to pronounce and was glad he didn’t have to. This restaurant, as well as many others in big cities and around campuses, had begun a new trend in which they would include several dishes from diverse planets and cultures. 

It was a nice thought, to be able to try such exotic things made in a kitchen instead of a replicator, but he found it oddly impractical. Considering the fact that most humans never leave the planet, most aren’t fully tested for foreign allergies. Jim silently hoped that whatever he had ordered was at least safe if it wasn’t good.

“I honestly have no idea what either of us just ordered.” Jim laughed out when the waiter left.

“Why would you chose to come to this establishment if you are unfamiliar with the cuisine?”

“I like trying new things, I guess.” Jim shrugged. “Also, I know that Vulcans are vegetarian so this said that it had plenty of choices.”

“I appreciate the gesture, though it was not necessary.”

“Yeah I know, but I thought this would be fun.” He takes a sip of his water, which faintly tasted of something sweet and thought it wasn’t expected, he liked it. He took a few more drinks as Spock seemed to contemplate something. After a couple of minutes of strangely comfortable silence, Spock began speaking again.

“I am still unaware of your intentions in attending this meal with me.” Jim wasn’t really sure what to tell him. He thought he would just ride this out for a while and see where it took them. Of course, Jim’s ultimate goal was friendship, but he thought to tell Spock that would scare him away more than anything. 

“Thought you looked lonely. And I always hear about how interesting your classes are, so I thought I’d wanna talk to.”

“Is that also why you spoke to me at the cafe?” Jim hoped he wouldn’t bring that up, but he shouldn't have expected anything less. 

“I guess? I was mostly just making conversation.”

“I see.” He left it at that and Jim thought then that it was okay to continue.

“So what kind of things do you like to do in your free time?” 

“My time is frequently taken up by that of my work.” His eyebrow quirked up and lips pursed into a thin line.

“I mean besides that. Like reading, music, movies or… I don't know? _ Golf? _ You know, stuff like that.”

“For recreation?” Jim nodded. “As I am regularly preoccupied with my work and studies, I often do not participate in such activities. Though I was awarded grandmaster in three-dimensional chess and since my youth, I have mastered the art of in Vulcan lute as well as the piano.”

“Chess? I play chess‒  three-dimensional too. I’ve never lost a match. But then again, I've never really had a formidable opponent.”

“I have won the great majority of my matches against several individuals who would be considered professionals at the sport. Therefore, I have my doubts that it would be a fair match between you and me.”

“I never said I wanted to face you.” Jim teased. Spock's face went blank as he straightened himself in the booth.

“I had made the assumption that‒  ” 

“Kidding.” He said, cutting off Spock's defense. “I would love to play a match against you.” 

“I would also find such an endeavor to be of interest.” 

When their food finally came, Jim was surprised to find it actually pretty good. Spock seemed to like… whatever he ordered, enough to eat all of it. They chatted throughout the lunch about their likes, their friends, and their studies. By the end of it, Jim had spent most of the time talking instead of eating, though Spock didn’t really seem to mind. He mostly just listened and chimed in with a short answer every once in a while.

“Well that was fun, but I think you have another class soon,” Jim said, standing up from the booth. Spock agreed and they both made their way out of the restaurant. Outside there was a bustle of students making their way to their next class.

“Goodbye, Ca‒ Jim.” Spock said, correcting himself before he made the mistake.

“Bye Spock, I’ll talk to you later.” Spock didn’t respond. He just nodded, turned on his heel, and walked away. 

Jim did the same except in the opposite direction. As he made his way back to his apartment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He opened the device and was immediately bombarded with message after message, all of them from the same person.

**_did you find his class?_ **

**_i’m gonna assume that’s a yes_ **

**_how’s the date going kid?_ **

**_hey_ **

**_hey, you better have not given me the wrong number considering i helped you_ **

After his class this morning, Jim couldn't figure out when and where Spock's lecture was, so he resorted to asking Uhura. Who, for some reason unknown to him, was adamant about getting Jim's number in exchange for the information. It didn't really to him matter at the time, but now he saw the error in his decision.

**_I had my phone on silent_ **

He sent the message and was about to put his phone away before he quickly added,

**_And it wasn't a date_ **


	3. Mothers Know Best

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter in Spock's POV so I hope you all like it! :)

Spock’s eyes popped open promptly at 5:45 a.m. with no alarm clock. He awoke to the steady patter of rain on his window, droplets sliding down as they grew too full with water. The sound brought a calmness to the room, a soothing sort of melody. It was a sound that was distant, almost foreign sounding to him, but after these few years on Earth, has become oddly familiar. 

As he swung his legs off the side of his bed, he took a deep breath of the hot air that circled about him. There was usually something almost therapeutic about the heat of his apartment. The hot and dry atmosphere around him would be just about suffocating to anyone else, yet was perfect for him. Or, at least, it normally was. 

This morning he found himself shivering, something completely odd to him. Due to his Vulcan biology, he wasn’t readily equipped for the chilled, damp San Francisco winter. Though he usually counteracted this by wearing extra thermal layers, when in his home he had no need. 

_ Then why,  _ He wondered,  _ is my body reacting in such a way? _

After a few seconds of mindful thought, he stood. But then in a moment, he was tumbling back on his bed. His legs were weak and as he fell back, there was a painful ache in his stomach. Something inside of him churned, and despite his faintness, he sprung up and sprinted into his adjoined bathroom. 

Nausea clawed at his throat, and Spock attempted to force it down, but it was too late. He lurched forward and sunk to his knees. Chunks of partially digested food spewed out of his coughing mouth and into the toilet. His stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything up and out. Even when there was finally nothing left to give, he still sat there dry-heaving and panting. Spock’s heart drummed wildly in his side and he called out to his computer. 

“Computer,” He could hear the small ding that meant that the device had registered his voice. “compose a message.”

“Addressed to?” The automated voice replied.

“File labeled st‒ “ He choked down another heave. “Students.”

“Continue with the message.”

“Due to unforeseen circumstances regarding my health, class will be canceled for the current day. I apologize for any inconveniences this may have caused to your schedule. You will be informed next class session on any changes made to assignments or lectures as a direct result of this matter. End message.” The computer reread the message to him.

“Would you like to send it or change it?”

“Send.”  

“Message sent.” 

When he was certain he would no longer need the toilet in front of him, Spock stood up from his position on the ground. When he glanced at the mirror, his face was almost green and dripping with sweat, tears, and what most certainly could only be considered bile. He grabbed a cloth, turned the knob on the sink, and ran it under the cool water. He then took that rag and wiped off his face. Despite the fact that his entire body was chilled, his face was unbelievably hot. So much so that he could feel how warm the cloth became when he held it to his head for a moment. He ran his damp hands through his hair, combing his bangs away from his forehead as if to alleviate some of the heat.

Spock, despite knowing copious amounts about topics such as vulcan and human biology and common illnesses that plagued both of these races, was at a loss when it came to himself. This wasn’t something that was entirely his fault though. Considering the fact that he was the first ever hybrid between the two, it was anyone’s guess to how certain illnesses would affect him. When he was young, he could recall hr had what could be comparable to a common cold a few times, but beyond that, he couldn't remember any other instances. He knew that treatment would be the most logical course of action, and yet he also knew that earth’s medical facilities were most-likely not readily available with professionals who were able to properly treat vulcans‒  or half-vulcans at that.

Spock stalked his way back over to his bed and tried to plan out a course of action. First, he should take some non-prescription remedies that he knew would alleviate him of at least some of his symptoms. Then, he should research his symptoms further to make sure it did not resemble anything too serious. And then‒ 

Perhaps now he should just rest. Spock was feeling disoriented and couldn't bring himself to once again stand. He wouldn’t admit it, but this entire week he had been feeling continually worse. He tried to pass it off as over-working and attempted to meditate off the fatigue, but his situation proved that that tactic wasn’t working. When he was young with seemingly human illnesses, his mother was always the one to treat him, insisting that he stay in bed all day, drink hot liquids, and wear plenty of layers. 

He considered this for a moment, contacting his mother. While she could provide no more health information than he already contained, she could serve as guidance for his decision-making process. Or at least, that's how he justified calling her.

When her face appeared on the screen Spock noted the glee that seemed to fill her. She was the same, her hair pulled back and her face pink in her cheeks and the same warm glow that emitted from her. The years have taken a toll, sure, no longer was it a youth looking back at him but there was something still distinctly the same.

“Spock.” She chirped happily. Though, after studying him a moment, her face turned into that of concern. “What's wrong, honey?”

“Mother, had I procured any seemingly human illnesses in my youth?”

“You’re sick? What wrong?”

“My symptoms include fevers, nausea, aching feelings, as well as stomach pain and dizziness.” He said in the calmest voice he could muster.

“You're right, it sounds human.” Spock held down yet another gag. “Aw, I'm sorry.”

“Your sentiments are unnecessary, mother.”

“Well you did get a fever when you were really little‒  you were too small to remember it though. Your father and I were scared half to death. Since you were the first half-vulcan, no one had any idea how to treat you.”

“What course of action was required?”

“We took you to a healer and then after they couldn't help you, to the Vulcan Medical Institute.” Her voice was laced with something that was between reminiscence and sadness. “They treated you like a lab experiment, not like a two-year-old little boy.”

“It is only logical that they‒ “

“Yes I know, Vulcans and their logic. But I’m human and it just about killed me to see them poking and prodding at you. You were always the calmest baby, and even then you would only weep quietly.”

“Mother, I implore you to remember the purpose of this video call.” He reminded. It’s not that he was opposed to her usual chattering, it was just that fact that he needed information. 

“Sorry, ” She continued. “they found that while they couldn’t locate the cause of the illness, they found you were best treated with human medicine. You had a few allergic reactions to those made on Vulcan, so I would advise staying away from those, just to be sure.”

“Thank you, mother. Your insight into this topic has been greatly beneficial.” 

“Well, I guess I should be going. You need your rest and your medicine.” She was about to click the button to end the call when,

“Mother.” Spock said with perhaps too much urgency.

“Yes, honey?” He wasn’t planning on asking her this, though the thought had been mulling around his head for the past few days.

“May I inquire your assessment on a contrasting matter?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“As you are a human and have resided on Earth for a great majority of your life, it is fair to assume that you would be considered a relative expert in the subject of human behavior and social norms.”

“I guess one could say that…” 

“If a human introduces himself to me on several occasions and requests my company without proper explanation, what may his intentions be?” 

“Well, you’ll have to explain the circumstances more.” He watched as she stood from where she was sitting, moved to a more comfortable position, and took a sip of something in a mug. Spock then let out a small huff through his nose before continuing. 

“He is a cadet at the academy and though I knew of his existence before this encounter, we had never spoken prior. On occasion, I will patron a cafe on campus that he also happens to frequent. Approximately two weeks ago he approached me at the counter and began speaking of trivial topics. As this is commonplace for humans when they are experiencing the emotion of restlessness, I did not analyze much into this conversation. Though a week later, he once again approached me following one of my classes and questioned me on whether or not I would go to lunch with him.” 

“And what did you say?” She asked with false innocence.

“I stated that I would not be opposed to the concept and followed him to an establishment off-campus.” Her face lit up, no longer attempting to hide her giddiness and Spock took notice. “Did you find amusement in something I said?”

“No, I’m just happy that you’re getting along with other people your age. I have to admit, the thought of you being so far away from me and in such an unfamiliar place for you, was scary. But I’m glad that you’re finally opening up to people.” Then began a barrage of questions with her asking and him answering as concise as possible in his current condition.

“What’s his name?”

“James T. Kirk.”

“Is he nice?”

“The word nice is subjective.”

“Do you like him?”

“I find his presence enjoyable to a certain extent, yes.”

“Have you spoken to him since you two had lunch?”

“I have conversed with him on a few different occasions, all either at the cafe or through messages.”

“You gave him your contact information?”

“He had requested it upon our last meeting.”

“What does he look like?”

“Dark-blond hair, a firm jawline, light skin, round eyes,” he says before adding on, “somewhat smaller than myself in means of height.”

“Well from this much alone, I can’t know exactly what his intentions are, but it seems as if he is just looking for your company. And it seems as though you are appreciating the said company. If you really want my advice, then how about you take the initiative and invite him to something?” Spock contemplated this but made no comment. “What are some of his interests?”

“...We contain a shared affinity for three-dimensional chess.”

“Great, invite him to play sometime.”

“How would I go‒ “ His question was cut off by a low rumble from his stomach as he felt yet another fit of sickness rise within him. “I apologize for my shortness on this topic, but I must end this call here. I appreciate the knowledge you have shared with me and your advice on the next course of action. Farewell, mother.” Spock said as fast and succinct as possible. 

“Goodbye, Spock! Make sure to‒ “ He clicked off the call and once again scrambled to the bathroom.

 

* * *

  
  


When his eyes opened for a second time that day, he was more aware to the state of his body. He blinked, held his eyes closed, and then blinked once again. The light from the sun trickled in through the blinds, the morning rain having lessened whilst he slept.  Spock, after ending the call with his mother, had taken some medication and once again laid down to rest. 

Now, as he sat up blinking, he could feel his sense of nausea beginning to subside. He hadn't eaten anything all day, and though he knew it would best if he went and made something, he couldn't bring himself to. Instead, he once again made his way into the bathroom, this time with more dignity.

He took a short, hot shower, scrubbed his teeth raw, and combed his hair to its usual tidy style. Once he was content with himself, he began the same on the rest of the bathroom. 

He wasn't yet healed, but he also couldn't allow himself to lay around and do nothing all day. Cleaning required little physical labor and a clean environment would be beneficial to his recovery, or at least that's how he justified it to himself. Spock found comfort in organization and cleanliness; it took his mind off of other things, if only for a moment. 

His apartment was proof of this habit. Every part of it was minimalistic. His furniture was there to serve its purpose, not as decorations. Everything had a place and everything was in its place. The only things that would be considered an ornament would be that of the gifts his mother sends him. Little statues and bookends and intricate art dotted his home here and there. He liked it, though he would never admit it. These items made it feel like there was always a part of her with him.

When he finally finished scrubbing his bathroom, his stomach could take the hunger no longer and he finally decided to make his way into the kitchen. He wasn't as concerned with getting there as he was for actually making something to eat. Spock, after exerting himself whilst cleaning, was now more off-balance than before and couldn't imagine standing long enough to actually make a meal.

As he was taking a moment to breathe and steady himself on the counter, he heard a firm knock on the door. It was odd, considering the fact that he did have a doorbell, but Spock staggered his way over there nonetheless. 

“Spock!” He heard a muffled voice call out from the outside the door. whoever it was banged frantically against the door once again.“Spock, you alive in there?” He called in a familiar voice. A strange warmth spread through Spock as he realized who it was.

“Jim.” He said, opening the door to face him. Due to his faltering stability, Spock leaned against the frame to steady himself.

Seemingly relieved, Jim’s eyes tore him apart. The sun reflected golden on his hair and shown through his thin Iowa tee-shirt. Spock was startled to the fact of just how little clothing he was wearing, but then again he was more resistant to the cold than him. Jim held in his arms some sort of food container that was emitting steam into the air. 

“You’re not dead.” Was all that left his mouth. Spock had  _ several  _ questions but couldn’t seem to voice any of them. He was too worn, too taken aback, too disoriented for anything with real meaning to leave his mouth.

“Evidently.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, thanks for reading my newest chapter! Sorry about the fact that there wasn't a lot of interaction in this chapter, but that's gonna change real soon with this next one. As always, feel free to comment on any mistakes, inconsistencies, or things you liked and I'll see you in the next chapter!


	4. Blame it on Emotional Transference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I took so long on this chapter! I've had a lot going on in my life and I wanted to make sure this one turned out right. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

 

“You’re not dead.” Jim said with a voice somewhere between relief and surprise. 

“Evidently.” Well, Spock looked like hell, but he wasn’t dead at least. Spock’s usually perfect hair was wet and tousled slightly in a way Jim had never seen. It was odd the way his face was sunken and his posture was relaxed as he leaned his shoulder into the door frame. Jim tried to catch his breath. In a panic, he had run all the way to Spock’s apartment and twice almost dropped the soup he had made.

“Why didn’t you answer my messages?” Spock studied him, drooping eyes now widening. In this inebriated-like state, he was showing his emotions on his face more freely. 

_ Shock. _

Jim decided that this is what that must look like for Spock to be surprised. The thought almost made him smile, that Spock was capable of making such a face.

“I was… unaware to the fact of your messaging. I have been resting for the preceding 4.3 hours and therefore was unable to reply. I apologize that I am currently unable to greet you in a more presentable fashion.” 

“No, that’s alright. I was just a little concerned, I guess.” Jim paused and the two of them just stared awkwardly at each other until he gambled speaking again. “Can I come in?”

“I am at present ignorant to that fact of whether or my illness is contagious to humans.”

“I don’t mind. Besides, I have a strong immune system.” Which wasn’t entirely true, but Jim said it anyways. He knew it was hell to be sick and all alone. Maybe that’s why he ended up getting a doctor as his best friend.

Spock looked as though he wanted to make another protest, but didn’t seem to have the energy. He slid his way out of the doorway. 

“You may do as you please.”

“I usually do.” When Jim made his way inside he took note of the open blinds and the heat. The air in his home was unusually dry and smelled vaguely of cleaner. Jim pulled at the collar of his shirt.

“If you are uncomfortable, I can reduce the temperature.”

“No, I’m good. I was just out in the cold‒  it feels nice.” Jim said, slinging his bag off his shoulder and slipping off his shoes at the doorway. He sets them both neatly in line with Spock’s things. When he looked up Spock was moving to lean against the counter and misjudged it slightly, falling against it harder than intended. He didn’t react to the impact but Jim couldn’t help but cringe at that light huff that left his lips. “Maybe we should just sit.” 

“That is... a sound suggestion.”

Spock led the way into the living room, Jim trailing cautiously behind. 

He still held the container filled with soup in his hands, not sure where he should put it, if anywhere. Jim knew that this looked weird‒  him rushing over to a house he’s never been to with poorly made Vulcan soup and a bag that was definitely  _ not _ filled with whatever medication he had in his cabinets‒  but he was worried. From what Uhura had told him, Spock had never canceled a class over illness before. That in itself was cause for concern, but what made it even worse was the fact that he wasn’t answering any of his messages. He felt lucky that he didn’t come here to find a corpse. 

“How did you acquire my address then?” They both sat down as he contemplated what to say. Jim had enough time to make soup, but apparently not enough to figure out a good enough excuse. Well, he always did say he was good at thinking on his toes. 

“...How did I find your house? Oh well, Uhura told me.”

“Cadet Uhura is also unaware of my living arrangements.”

_ It was a good try. _

“Well I was at the cafe this morning and you weren’t there, which was pretty strange for you. So I was talking to Uhura and she said that you had canceled all of your classes today because you were sick. I went back to my apartment and was making lunch and well...I thought if you were too sick to go to your class then you might be too sick to make food. So I looked up some Vulcan recipes and found this soup,” he paused for a moment to gesture to the container. 

“It was pretty easy to make but I can't guarantee it tastes right.” He awkwardly grabbed the back of his neck as he spoke.

“Your explanation did not answer my question.”

“Okay, okay.” He said hesitantly. “When I finished making the soup I messaged you again. But you didn’t respond‒  and you’re usually pretty good at that. So I messaged you again, and then since I thought you might be asleep, I called. I was worried so I went to the academy and got your address to check up on you.” 

“Staff members personal information is classified to students.”

“It is.” He expected the worse. Spock was known for following the rules as strict as possible. So the fact that Jim had hacked into the school’s computer, couldn’t go over well.

But then Spock just looked at him. His eyes dipped and brow rose subtly with the corners of his lips. He wasn’t mad he was‒  

_ Impressed? _

“I’m sorry.”

“Your apologies are unneeded yet appreciated,” Spock said, shifting closer to Jim. “What are the contents of the meal?”

“Sorry?” Jim asked, not expecting the change of topics.

“The soup. You had stated you had followed a Vulcan recipe.”

“Oh, that. I made it with this weird root vegetable I got from the interstellar foods store on California street. I think it’s called plomik? Pomik?”

“ _ Plomeek.” _

“That! It tasted kind of bland but the recipe said that that’s pretty standard. I can heat it up for you.”

“That is unnecessary. As you have already prepared me the meal, I am able to do the rest.” Spock moved to once again stand but Jim placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back into the sofa. 

“No, you’re sick.” Jim then stood and took the soup into the kitchen. “You wait there and I’ll play housewife.” 

After a few minutes of preparation, he makes his way back into the living room, tray filled with food. The hot soup sloshed around slightly as he set it down on the end table along with an orange, a glass of water, and a mug full of tea. A smug grin spread over his face as Spock eyed the food‒  and then the outfit. 

Jim had been snooping around a kitchen closet and had found tiny a yellow polka-dot apron, which he promptly tied around his waist. Spock didn’t say anything, just raised a questioning brow and tilted his head.

_ Curiosity _ .

“What? I thought it completed the whole ‘housewife’ character.” He said confidently, batting his eyelashes in a joking manner. “Don’t you like it?”

“Though it is what many would consider attractive on you, I would have to say it better complements my mother.” Why was his face getting hot? Spock wasn’t being serious.

But then again, Jim couldn’t ever remember a time when Spock wasn’t serious. The thought made his stomach churn. Maybe he was getting sick after all.

“Oh, you don’t care that I put it on, right? Since it’s hers, I mean.” 

“It does not bother me.” Despite what Spock said, he pulled it off anyways. The joke was already over, right?

“Okay now, eat up.” He said, plopping down on the couch. Spock complied, pulling the tray onto his lap with no more protest. Without so much as a breath to cool it down, he immediately shoved the whole spoonful into his mouth. It wasn’t messy, it was almost desperately as if he hadn’t eaten for days. He then downed another and another and another with a surprising pace.

When he was finally finished, Spock set the tray back on the table. His face and eyes were purposely turned away from Jim. He didn't say anything, just folded his hands neatly on his lap.

_ Embarrassed. _

Perhaps he was imagining it, but Jim was sure he could see the slightest tint of green on the tips of Spock's ears.

“You liked it that much, huh?” He knew he shouldn't tease, but he couldn't help it. Despite having talked to Spock on several occasions, he always had the feeling that there was something missing, something deeper to all this than Spock let on. But how was he supposed to know? Spock didn't show his feelings and it's not like Jim could just ask.

“I found it adequate, thank you.”

“Oh, is that right?” He continued, wagging his eyebrows at the disheveled man who still wouldn’t look at him. He just shook his head and stood up, tidying up the now used bowl and utensils before taking it all back into the kitchen. Jim set them back down in the synthesizer to be disposed of and watched the door shut. When he turned back around, Spock had gotten up from the sofa and was leaning against the island, watching him without saying a word. So, Jim spoke first.

“Wanna watch a movie or something? I would offer chess, but I don’t think either of us is really in a mood to think.”

“I do not own a television.” Jim wasn’t surprised.

“I brought my PADD. I could stream something‒  if you’d want?” Jim asked. He didn’t want to push anything if Spock was too tired or just wasn’t interested. But then again, he didn’t want to leave him alone just yet.

“I would not be opposed to such an idea.”

“Okay, then you go get comfy on the sofa and I’ll get it set up.” Jim then wandered over to where his bag was and pulled out his device. He turned it on, typed in his password, and pulled up his movie catalog. He didn’t have too many, considering the fact that he much preferred reading to watching movies, but there was enough to choose from at least. 

Spock was sitting perfectly straight in his seat when Jim returned.

“I said get comfy.” He chuckled. “Do you have any pillows?”

“I have spare bedding in my room down the hall, if you would allow me to‒ “ 

“I thought we went over this? I’m here to help you out while you’re sick. Here pick something out.” He tossed his PADD into Spock’s lap. “I’ll be right back.”

Jim then made his way deeper into his home. The hall only had three doors, so it was fairly easy to find his bedroom. Spock's bedroom contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs, a hanging mirror, a bedside table, and a small dresser. All were dark in color and seemingly untouched. There were no drapery curtains on the windows, no pictures on the walls or tables. Despite this, Jim was surprised to see there were little decorative pieces of art that dotted the room here and there. He couldn’t imagine Spock buying them for himself. 

He moved to the closet in the corner and found two pillows with a blanket and shoved them under his arms before heading back into the living room. Spock was scrolling through the movie options and his eyes darted up when Jim walked into the room. 

“Here, scoot forward.” Spock complied quietly and Jim shoved one of the pillows behind his back. “Arms up.” He then rapped him up in the blanket. Even though it was already hot in his home, Jim couldn’t help but notice how the hairs on Spock’s arms stood up and he seemed as though he was constantly trying to hold in shivers. “There, now you look cozy.” 

“I do‒ “ Spock started, as though he was going to protest, but decided against it.

Jim tossed the other pillow next to him on the couch and moved in close to see the screen.

“So, what did you chose?” Spock didn’t say anything, just moved the PADD closer to Jim. A nature documentary on ocean life was pulled up and ready to watch. It was an older one, but still pretty good quality. Jim had it on his watch list for a while now but had never gotten around to actually watching it.

“If you would prefer another section‒ “  

“No, this good.” He clicked the play button and instinctually moved closer to Spock. His face grew pink as he could practically feel the heat radiating off of the body next to him, but made no move away.

 

* * *

 

_ His mind burned in golden hues. Warm, bubbling laughter sprung from his chest. This wasn’t him, that much was certain. Though, this also wasn’t anyone he could distinguish. _

_ Who? _

_ Their thoughts were rose pink and golden and bright and‒  confusing. It reminded him of his mother, but more erratic and impulsive than her. Spock could hardly think by himself nor could he tell if he wanted to. His mind flowed almost perfectly into theirs like water rising against the hot shore. It wasn’t a full meld, he could distinguish that much from the lack of conversation and actual structure. Despite this, he could easily feel impressions of their emotions and even some strong thoughts.  _

_ All of their feelings were dripping into his‒  fast-paced and nonsensical.  _

_ He attempted to focus on some, to determine who this was. _

_ Concern. _

_ Fear. _

_ Those were the two he could easily salvage from the mess. But there was something else there, something strong and pleasant‒  something Spock couldn’t understand. It made his head spin. _

_ Jim.  _

 

* * *

 

All at once, as if their air was knocked out of his chest, Spock was pulled from both his sleep and from Jim’s mind. 

“Bones I don’t know if he’s hotter than normal, he’s Vulcan!… yes, my new friend is a Vulcan.. yes I checked, I put my hand on his forehead… no… I'm not stabbing him with a hypo!… we were just watching a movie and then he fell asleep… no, we were  _ just _ watching a movie… no, he wouldn’t wake up but he’s breathing… a healing what?” Jim paced outside of the kitchen whilst talking on his phone. 

Spock felt empty without another presence in his mind, but oddly better.  He didn’t expect to go into a healing trance without warning, considering he usually had good control over those things, but he wasn’t necessarily surprised. What did surprise him though, was how easily Jim was let into his mind, just through mere contact alone. Perhaps he had let he shields weaken too much while in his impaired state. He felt as though there were still traces left of Jim in his mind which was most likely due to the emotional transference. 

“Jim‒  Jim.” His voice was hoarse as he stood up.

“Spock?” His eyes darted to his phone, then to Spock, then back to his phone. “I’m gonna have to call you back, Bones.” He spit out fast as he could, ending the call. 

Spock felt much more sturdy on his feet as he made his way over to where Jim was standing dumbfounded.

“Hey,” he said breaking out of it. “Are you okay? You shouldn't get up so fast. Or maybe at all. Do you need to go to the hospital?” Spock raised a hand to silence him.

“My body had sensed my ailments and had induced a healing trance to focus all of my energy to repair myself. I can assure you that it is perfectly natural and beneficial to Vulcan health.”

“So you did that to yourself.” It wasn't so much of a question as it was a statement.

“Not intentionally. I apologize for the distressed it must have caused you, but I can assure you my physical and cognitive abilities have improved significantly.”

“I’m okay.” He sighed into his palm and rubbed his fingertips against the corner of his eye.

“You were not. Your emotions were showing signs of panic, concern, and fear.”

“I was‒  Wait, what do you mean by that?” 

“Whilst in my healing trance, I am still able to experience a minimal amount of sensory information of my surroundings. Since you are learning about Vulcan culture in your interspecies ethics class, I am sure you are aware of the fact that Vulcans are touch telepaths.” Jim nodded. “Therefore, when you placed your hand on my forehead I could experience some of your emotions through that contact.” As he spoke, Spock could see thousands of thoughts whirl behind Jim’s wide eyes and then come spewing from his lips.

“You could read my thoughts? Oh god, what did you find in there? Wait, that doesn’t matter‒  or it does but not now. I’m sorry I touched you without your permission. I know Vulcans aren't really keen on physical contact.”

“There is no reason to apologize, as you were attempting to assess my condition. As to your previous concern, I was not able to experience most of your thoughts, as this was not a full meld, but I could feel traces of your emotions and strong feelings towards topics.” Jim only looked slightly more relieved, but Spock didn’t know what else he could say to help.

After a moment, Jim finally spoke again.

“Hey, Spock...”

Spock looked at him expectantly. “Yes?”

“Did you‒” He just shook his head and Spock could see the pink tint of embarrassment in his cheeks. “You know what, nevermind. I’m just glad that you’re feeling better.”

“I accept your sentiments.”

“Good,” Jim finally smiled again and Spock denies the rush of relief that filled him. “I ‘ought to get going though, let you rest a bit more.”

As Spock could not deny the fatigue that still plagued him, he wasn’t sure why he felt almost disappointed at this. Jim moved to grab his PADD and put it back into his bag, Spock purposely not commenting on the sound of him sifting through bottled medicine.

“I'll see you later then. Are you sure you're alright now?” Spock nodded and Jim reached out for the door handle.

“Jim,” Spock said perhaps in too much of a hurry. “Is your schedule full this Friday after your classes?” 

“No, I don't believe so, why?” 

“I would like to invite you to my home this Friday to engage in chess, seeing as we were unable to today. Are you opposed?”

Jim just smiled. 

“I would love that.”

And then he left, humming and giddy.

And Spock was most definitely  _ not _ excited. Or at least, he would never admit to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thanks for reading! Feel free to comment any mistakes or complements and I'll see you in the next chapter! (:


	5. To Break From Routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! I've been super busy with school as of late. Either way, I hope you all enjoy it! :)

As per custom, Spock held open the door for a young girl and her father before entering the cafe himself. He wasn’t quite sure why he had always frequented this small shop, but he often found himself time and time again going out of his way to get a tea that he could easily make for himself. He would write it off as patronizing a local business, though he knew that that was never the true reason. Maybe it had something to do with its soothing atmosphere.

As sauntered up to the register he could spot curve of Uhura’s head bobbing up from over the coffee machines.

“One second, professor.” She said, walking a drink over to a customer before making her way back to him. “How are you this morning?”

“Adequate, thank you.”

She rang in his order without having to ask for it and he handed her the money without needing to know the total. “No Kirk today?”

“I am unaware of his circumstances this morning. Though if I would have to make a presumption, I would say he is still sleeping. He had messaged me on multiple occasions yesterday evening stating how he had procrastinated on writing an essay due this morning.”

“You two really got chummy pretty fast.” She handed him his change.

“He has a very dynamic personality.” Spock said as if it was clear as day.

“Is _that_ what they call it?” Before Spock could ask what she meant by that, Uhura turned and began making his tea. “You know,” she called out to him. “I really should just make your tea in advance. It’s not like you ever break from routine.”

“I have been known to break from my routine if the occasion suits it.”

“Sure.” Uhura said unconvinced. She poured the hot liquid into the to-go cup. He waited at the pickup station but she just set the cup down on the workstation. She then moved to the other side of the counter and began to prepare another drink, Spock not commenting on his discarded tea. After filling a clear cup with ice and green tea and then slapping a lid on the top, she grabbed both of them and walked them over to him. Spock made no move to take them from her.

“You said he had a class this morning, right?” Spock finally understood. She had made Jim’s drink.

“I also have a class this morning.”

“Then you best get going, huh?” She looked at him with knowing eyes. He wanted to say that he couldn’t risk being late or that perhaps Jim wouldn’t appreciate the drop in, but he didn’t. He just grabbed the drinks, said a rushed goodbye to Uhura, and made it out of the cafe at a quick pace.

There were dozens of thoughts running through his mind as he strode his way across the campus. His own class was approximately a four-minute walk from the east side of campus, where Jim’s class was. If he hurried and dropped off the tea with minimal conversation, then he calculated that he should make it back to teach with two minutes to spare. He tried to ignore unsteady thrum in his side as he walked into Jim’s intergalactic relations class. He scanned the crowd of students who were filtering into their seats. Jim wasn’t there.

_Two minutes._

Spock didn’t have much time.

“Cadet.” He said to a young girl sitting in the front row. Her curly red hair bounced loosely as she turned to face him. Though her apparent energy soon subsided once she caught a glimpse at who was talking to her. Spock would almost call it fear that he saw in her eyes.

“Yes, sir?” She said, level yet clearly taken back.

“Would you have information to where Cadet Kirk sits in this period?”

She looked almost relieved. “Well, he’s not here yet‒ “

“I am aware of that fact.”

“Oh, well he usually sits two down from me.” Spock’s eyes darted to the empty seat and then back to her. She seemed like a trustworthy enough person.

“I am going to leave this at his seat for him.” He lifted up the green tea. “I will entrust you to the task of making sure no one tampers with it.”

She looked at him as though he was speaking an unknown language.

“Are you amenable?” He asked again.

“‒Yes!” She said, coming to. “I’ll make sure he gets it.”

“You have my gratitude.” Spock said, setting the drink on Jim’s desk and walking out of the room at a surprising pace.

He made it into his classroom with only one minute to spare. All of his students were already sitting in their seats and waiting. He was known for his punctuality and expected the same of his students. Because of this, all eyes were on him. The chirped amongst themselves as he set his bag and tea on his desk. With a quick breath they all quieted and he began speaking.

“I apologize for my curt entrance this morning.” He made a brief pause. “As you all had turned in your assignments on non-federation languages, I am confident to the fact that all of you are all well versed in the area of most, if not all, spoken languages. Though, something that has not been previously taught to you in your basic exolinguistics classes is that of non-spoken or gestural language. These are languages that rely solely on bodily movements to convey‒ ”

_Bzz._

A phone went off. He couldn’t help the tinge of annoyance that filled him and was about to comment on the noise when‒

 _Bzz._      

His head shot over to his own desk.

It was _his_ phone that was going off. How had he forgotten to turn down the sound?

“I once again offer my apologies.” He walked over to his desk and took his phone out of his bag. It was Jim. It was always Jim.

**_Great now everyone wont leave me alone about my Vulcan BFF_ **

**_Also you scared Tilly half to death_ **

He shook his head and went to put it back when it went off again. Despite himself, Spock just couldn't help but look.

**_But thank you. you really made my morning_ **

**_Are you not supposed to be in class right now?_ **Spock typed out quickly and Jim’s reply was almost instant.

**_Arent you??_ **

Spock’s head shot up and all about him were almost 40 curious eyes locked onto his face. He hadn’t noticed the pointedly human upturn of his mouth until now. He straightened his face out, turned his phone volume off, and hurriedly shoved the device into his pocket.

“Now that that has been dealt with, I will proceed.” He said as stoically as possible. “As I was saying, gestural language focuses on bodily movements to convey thoughts. Due to this fact, universal translators are unable to assist in the understanding of these languages. Though copious amounts of civilizations contain these as secondary languages, there are approximately eleven known planets in Federation space with no spoken language. This is not to say that these are without…”

Even Spock began to drown out his own lecture, speaking without actually paying attention to what he was saying. Something, or rather someone, was on his mind. He couldn’t seem to shake the thoughts of Jim that continued to flood his mind.     

The class continued from there on the same as ever. His students still seemed intrigued by his behavior but thankfully made no comments. And when he finally finished, Spock waited until every last person left the room to once again pull his phone out. Jim had messaged him again.

**_Remember, I’m gonna beat you at chess tonight_ **

He could feel his lips once again begin to betray him as the air grew thick with an adoration that he could only attribute to one thing. He knew this dizzy feeling, or at the very least, he knew when he had first felt it.

 ** _We will both if there is truth in that statement tonight then._**

 

* * *

 

He watched as Jim snatched up a black pawn and then waited for Spock to make his move. Underneath the table, Spock’s feet shuffled, yet his expression remained cold and stoic. Jim drummed against the side of the board instead of anticipating many moves ahead. Spock wondered how he was doing so well for someone that was playing move to move. But then again, Jim seemed to live most of his life by that same logic.

“Check.” Spock said, moving his rook to the middle layer and leaving his hand there a moment as to contemplate his next action. Then, Jim grabbed his queen to move it but‒  

Their hands brushed together. Just for a moment. Just for long enough for Spock to notice it. It was like electricity, the look that passed between the two of them. Jim smiled the same way the sun rose. Spock's lungs filled as fast as parachutes and he once again felt that all too familiar hum of warmth that seemed to follow wherever Jim was.

He didn’t want to pull away.

And he didn't, not until Jim did. And when he finally broke his gaze to look at Jim's move, he found his own king in Jim's hand.

“Checkmate.” He chuckled out.

“How...” ... _was I so distracted?_

He cut himself off. Spock couldn't understand it. How was it that this person who moves were unplanned and sporadic and spur of the moment was able to beat him? Sure, it wasn't as if he was ill-matched but Spock couldn't wrap his head around it.

“That was a great game.” Just then there was buzz from his pocket and Jim pulled out his phone. He quickly tapped out a reply, shoved it back into his pocket, and then turned back to Spock.

There was something there in his eyes. It felt like Jim was reaching out and wrapping his arms around him. Like he was pulling him in, drawing him closer and closer. He had the overwhelming urge to grab Jim’s hand back. Spock had been denying this since the first time Jim had burst into his life like nothing ever had. He was bright and ethereal and Spock never understood what he was thinking.

But he wanted to. He didn't know why, and he couldn't justify it‒  he just wanted to. He yearned to learn his thoughts, to get another look into his oddly alluring mind.

He knew what this was. He knew it the moment he felt Jim’s presence in his mind. Though he had never felt it before, it was illogical to deny it any longer. He could have never felt this way for T’pring, no matter how hard he had tried. She was a childhood acquaintance and someone he had admired, but he could never feel this way for her. Nor could she for him. Perhaps, that was why the breaking of their bond was so painless and needed.

“Want to play again?” Jim asked, ignorant to the revelation Spock had just experienced. He began resetting the board without waiting for his answer. After a beat of realization to the fact that he would have to reply, Spock forced words to leave him, whatever they may be.

“That’s good.” Jim ceased putting the chess pieces back in their places and looked at him with this wild grin. Spock’s heart stilled as Jim burst into a deep bought of laughter.

“I fail to find what is so humorous?”

“No ‘I would find that to be adequate.’ or ‘Your suggestion is sufficient.’ or something else that sounds like you chewed up your thesaurus?” He took a break between to catch his breath from the laughter. “‘That’s good’, you even used a contraction.”

“And what is noteworthy in the fact that I utilized a contraction in my speech?” This again seemed to strike Jim as something funny as he began to chuckle again.

“You _never_ use contractions.” Jim said teasingly.

“Must we dwell on this, or are we able to continue with the match?”

“Fine, fine.” Even now, he could feel the corners of his lips beginning to turn up as if he had caught Jim's laughter.

Jim finished setting up the board and made the first move.

And then Spock made his.

And then Jim again.

And then Spock reached to grab one of his pieces, purposely brushing their knuckles together. Jim didn’t seem to react in any particular way.

_Does Jim want this?_

He couldn’t be misinterpreting all of these actions, could he? The abrupt introductions, the lunch dates, the constant texting, the impromptu caretaking, the flirtatious teasing‒  Spock was far from an expert on these things, but he could tell by this much that this was typical courting behavior. Perhaps his mother was right, it was time that he started showing that he wasn’t opposed to Jim’s advances.

“Though your appearance today contrasts your typical wardrobe choices, I find your attire to be aesthetically pleasing.”

“Oh, you do?” His eyes looked like he was daring Spock to do something. And so, he did. Spock grabbed Jim’s hand tight and looked at him with a fierce determination.

“I do.” He said in all seriousness. “Though, you are always to be considered attractive.”

_Surprise._

Spock couldn’t tell if this was his own emotion or Jim’s, or perhaps it was both. He wanted to talk to him, but he didn’t know how he should start. So, they just sat together for a moment, holding each other's hand and gaze. Jim’s eyes were blown wide and Spock hoped he didn’t look the same.

“Aren’t you able to feel my emotions?”

“I am.”  

“I see…”

_Nervous._

“Would you rather I not?” Spock didn’t move yet, just awaited Jim’s answer.

“I don't necessarily mind.” He ran his tongue over his lips. “Isn’t this intimate for Vulcans?”

“It can be.” He rubbed his fingertips over Jim’s knuckles.

“Is _this_ intended to be intimate?”

“It can be.”

_Want._

Beyond everything else, Spock could feel this emotion rise within both of them. He wanted him. And in whatever way Jim was willing to give, Spock wanted him too.

He stood, nearly knocking the board over, and positioned himself in front of Jim. On the raised stool seat, Jim was now closer to Spock’s height than he was standing up. Spock hadn’t let go of his hand but instead brought it around to the other side and began running his fingers over Jim’s palm. He then placed their pointer and middle fingers together. Eagerness crawled under his skin.

Jim watched everything, hardly moving. Though, when Spock touched their fingers together Jim just chuckled awkwardly.

“Isn’t this how Vulcans kiss?” He said low and breathy.

“The human gesture of kissing can be thought of as synonymous to this act, yes. Though many have argued that the ‘Vulcan kiss’ contains a deeper meaning of the desire to feel one’s emotions in a romantic fashion.”

Jim finally tore his eyes away from their hands and looked the other in the eye. His mouth quirked up slightly along with his eyebrows as he once again let out a short amused breath through his nose. “I’d never taken you as much of a romantic.”

And then he just leaned in close. Almost resting his chin on Spock’s shoulder, Jim was now so close that Spock could hear the ragged breaths leaving through Jim’s mouth as if on speaker.

“What would you take me as?” He almost whispered. It was an odd question, Spock knew this much, but somehow he couldn’t help but ask it. Jim pulled away and faced Spock, their noses only mere centimeters apart.

“You? I honestly have no clue anymore‒  not like I ever did.” Jim’s words were almost slurred and Spock couldn’t help but stare at his lips as he spoke, his breath warm and damp against his own lips.

“Your eyes are brown.” Jim finally said after what felt like an eternity.

“And what is significant about that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just never noticed. They’ve always looked kinda black to me.” Jim’s voice became more hushed as he continued. “But if I look real close, I can see flecks of gold toward your pupil and the rest is just like this dark chocolate color.”

“The great majority of Vulcans have brown or grey eyes.” Jim didn’t say anything, just hummed in response as he began to move his fingers against Spock’s.

Spock closed his eyes for a moment as if to savor the feeling. And then, he felt something soft brush against his lips. He dared not move, not until Jim reached around with his left hand and grabbed Spock by the back of his neck. Spock could feel as he ran his fingers through the underside of his hair and pulled Spock in even closer. Jim pressed his mouth desperately against Spock’s, forcing him to part his lips slightly, not that he minded. Heat pooled deep in his stomach as their lips moved against each other.

Though their touch he could feel the want and confusion and the passion between them. It made his breathless.

_Bring._

And then Jim’s phone chimed in his pocket.

Spock tried to hide the annoyance that ran through him, but that was hard to do when he was also allowing Jim to feel his own emotions.

“Ignore it. I don’t have to answer it.” He mumbled against Spock’s lips.

Spock tried to do what Jim told him and just ignore it and yet‒  

_Bring._

_Bring._

Spock pulled away enough to speak properly. “It may be wise to answer your phone, it could be important.” Jim just sighed and leaned back into his chair, pulling both his hand and mouth away. Spock felt emptier. It was illogical, considering the fact that he _had_ been the one who told Jim to answer it, but he felt it anyway. He pulled out his phone and read over the messages as Spock stood in front of him, attempting to regain his composer.

“Shit…” He muttered to himself before looking back to Spock. “I forgot that I told Bones that I would go out with him tonight.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I’ll just tell him I had other plans and make it up to him later.”

“That is unneeded. If you had prior engagements with the doctor, then you should uphold them.” Though he didn’t necessarily want Jim to leave, it was becoming quite evident that this was turning into _much_ more than a chess game.

“Oh, well then.” Jim smiled at him, but his eyes looked almost sad. He slid himself off the seat. “I’ll see you later then, right?”

“Monday morning I will once again be at the cafe.” He said in a futile attempt to fix the broken mood.

“I’ll be there.” The two of them then moved to the door.

“Farewell Jim, enjoy your time with the doctor.”

“Yeah, bye to you too Spock.”

And then he left.

And Spock tried to ignore the blush that was surely covering his face as he watched Jim uncomfortably shift himself in his pants before walking down the apartment steps. Spock shut the door, running his hands through his already messed up hair.

He needed to meditate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOO! That was one of the most fun chapters to write so far! If you can't tell I actually hate writing slow burns because, just like my audience, I just want them to get together already. But of course, this is only the beginning now! Things will only pick up from here so stay tuned for more. As always, feel free to comment any compliments or mistakes and I'll see you in the next chapter! (:


	6. Update!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everyone I'm not dead! I have had A LOT going on in school and therefore I'm not really able to write for a while. This "chapter" is just basically to make a transition into the next chapter easily and it's honestly all I have at the moment. I can't thank you all enough for all of the kind words and complements that I have been given. I promise I will try to get the next chapter out ASAP, but it will most realistically come out in a couple of weeks.  
> Thanks again everyone! :)

“Fuck…” Jim really couldn’t just do anything right, could he? “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!”

He wanted a friend‒   _ a friend‒   _ but now here he was, getting hard from holding hands with an instructor at his college. The idea was honestly laughable. Sure, he could blame it on the kiss, but honestly, that was nothing special. He was feeling it long before he decided to steal Spock's lips.

When Spock grabbed his hand over the chess game, he had let all of his emotions pour over him until Jim was practically drowning in infatuation. It was such a vulnerable moment, for someone who had been raised his entire life in a culture that valued hiding one’s emotions, just give all of his feelings to Jim so willingly. Just the mere thought of it was enough to turn his cheeks pink again. He couldn’t even imagine what Spock had felt because of him. The fact that Spock made the first move was such a surprise to him that he could hardly think coherently. All around his mind spun thoughts of affection and fondness  

It’s not that Jim was necessarily against the idea of being with Spock, it was just the simple fact that‒  

  1. He was Vulcan.
  2. He was a professor.
  3. Jim was supposed to be friends with him, not fuck him!



God, he knew what McCoy was going to say about this and that was partially the reason he wasn’t so stoked to hang out with him tonight. Everyone was practically already buzzing about how Jim had befriended the most hard-ass professor at the academy without even taking his class. There were, of course, students in the past that Spock had clearly favored over others, Uhura being one of them, but these were always students who were considered exceptional at his class. But none of these students would Spock be tardy to his class for, just to bring them a tea. Nor would he stop mid-lesson to message them back.

All of a sudden there was a cold chill that swept through the air. Jim sensed the rain only seconds before he felt it. Then all of a sudden a wet dollop hit him on the tip of his head. He looked up to the sky just as another drop of water plopped his shoulder, then his cheeks, and soon the smattering echoed all around him. He groaned as the rain began to pour in earnest. Quickly he started into a jog, rounding corners with surprising speed until he finally burst into the bar.

Jim wiped off the water that was accumulating into the corners of his lips. No matter how long he had lived in San Francisco, he could never truly get used to the dreary winter weather. At least back in Iowa, he had cold, snowy winters to look forward to. It was hard for him to be in the holiday spirit when it was going to be winter break in just a few days and it felt no different outside than a spring morning back in his hometown. 

He just shook his head and ran a hand through his now wet and tousled hair. Thankfully, the rain was useful for getting rid of his hard-on. The bar was nothing more than a barrage of hundreds of conversations all happening at once, all of them competing with the even louder music that dominated the atmosphere. The crowd was young, students from the university for the most part. Jim wound his way through the warm bodies to order a drink and find McCoy, something that was never particularly hard to do, considering the fact that the two of them always sat at the same table in the far corner.

“Finally!” He heard his friend call out to him before he even made it to the table. “What even took you so long? Your apartment is like what? Two blocks away?” 

“Sorry, I forgot‒  and I wasn’t at my apartment.” He hoped he wasn’t pink in the face.

Jim set his phone down on the table and started walking to the counter, all the while McCoy was incoherently muttering complaints about something that Jim couldn’t quite pick out. He grabbed himself and McCoy a drink and made it back to him. He then handed Bone’s his beer and slug off his jacket before sitting down across from him.

“You know, when I said that you should get yourself a friend, I didn’t think you’d pick one just to spite me.” He grumbled, taking a swig of the new drink.

“Could you elaborate?” Jim said, knowing full well what he was talking about.

“That damn hobgoblin! Not only is he a Vulcan but he is your professor‒ “

“He’s not  _ my  _ professor he’s  _ a  _ professor.”

“Same difference! You know everyone was talking about you two.”

“Everyone already talked about both of us before. I’m George Kirk’s son and he’s Ambassador Sarek’s, not to mention that we both kind of have our own reputations around the campus.”

“Exactly why you two shouldn’t be hanging out. What do you guys even have in common?”

“We both like classic literature, and tea, and chess‒  among other things.”

“Well don’t you two sound like the perfect little old couple.”

“Oh shut it, Bones. He’s actually really fun once you get to know him. At first, he seems like this statue‒  cold and unfeeling‒ but that’s just the front he puts on. He actually has all these emotions just swimming behind his eyes. I don’t get how other people don’t see it.” McCoy just looked at him unimpressed.

“I thought Vulcans didn’t have emotions.”

“Okay  _ everyone _ knows that that’s not true. Sure, Vulcans take pride in being able to control their bodies in all aspects, and this includes their minds. But they do feel, probably more than humans in all actuality.”

“And he told you all of this?” He said blandly.

“Not particularly. I did some research and he also…” His words faded. How was he supposed to explain the telepathy without explaining everything else? Could he even explain everything else?

“He also what?” 

“Well, Vulcans have this touch telepathy thing where anywhere your skin touches you can feel the other person’s emotions.”

“Are you fucking with me right now?” He wasn’t happy.

“It’s not like that, okay? It’s only when they allow you to feel them, any other time you can’t.” Jim just couldn’t seem to quit digging the hole he was already in. Quickly, he downed a couple more gulps of his drink before McCoy started talking again. 

“And he let you, huh?”

“I guess.”

“And what kind of  _ touching _ did you two do?” He shook his head. “Actually don’t answer that I don’t want to know.”

“Bones…”

“I said I don’t wanna know!”

Honestly, Jim didn’t know himself what any of this meant. What, did Spock want to date him or something? The thought was unlikely. Though not explicitly forbidden, there was something distasteful about relationships between professors and students. It was like an unspoken rule, a line that shouldn’t be crossed. Not to mention, it wouldn’t look good for either of their reputations at the academy. 

“I kissed him.” Jim felt defeated.

“What did I just say!”

“Bones, I’m being serious here. Fuck…” His face collided with his palms as he rubbed the tired from out underneath his eyes. “You’re right, he’s a professor and he’s Vulcan and he’s‒   just so hard to understand. What am I supposed to do?”

“Hell if I know. I’m a doctor, not a marriage counselor.” 

Jim just groaned into the mouth of his drink. He wasn’t used to this kind of thing. If he wanted to be with someone before, he never had a problem telling them or anyone else. But now? Spock was something different, he was so unlike anyone Jim had ever been with. He was terribly smart and witty, surrounded by this atmosphere that he couldn’t help but be drawn to. Jim couldn’t help but think about him constantly. 

This morning he was utterly cranky, having stayed up all night the evening before. But when he got to class and saw that tea sitting on his desk he could help the toothy grin that spread across his face. He knew who it was from, even before he was bombarded by everyone's questions. All day today, thoughts of Spock invaded his mind.

_Dammit_ _. _

He had it so bad. 

Even McCoy could tell this much.  

“Okay kid, you got the hots for another alien. So what? It’s hardly the first time.” Jim just stared into his drink, deep in thought. McCoy tried again. “What? Was he grossed out when you kissed him or something?”

“That’s not it. He was just‒”

“And when you did the mind thing, did he seem to like it?”

“Well yeah, we both did, but I‒”

“Great! You two seem to be very invested in each other. Now, can we stop talking about this!” He emphasized his point by dramatically tipping back his beer to finish it off before standing up. Jim made no move as McCoy pushed in his stool. 

“Bones, this is the first time I’ve ever been so unsure of myself. I just don’t get why he’s different.”

“Be sure to thank me at the wedding.” He said bitingly and left Jim to catch up with him.


	7. In An Effort To Make Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, it's been a while. A month to be exact. I know I had said before that I would need at least two weeks, but that doesn't mean that I still don't feel bad for being so distant. Thank you so much for allowing me to have this time to kind of recuperate, and hopefully, now chapters will come out on a more regular basis again.

The air was so hot and stagnant that it was difficult for Jim to breathe. “‘omputer.” He mumbled into his drool covered pillow before waiting for the ding. When it never came he grumbled and tossed his body over, shrugging off his blanket in the process.

“Computer,” He said again, this time not muffled by his pillow. _Ding._ “turn temperature settings down by 5 degrees and would ya turn on my fan?” After a moment he could hear the low whirl of the climate system kicking on. He could swear that they assigned the command track even worse apartments than engineering, and engineering had an average of destroying at least two rooms a year! McCoy always told him that his room was just as bad his first few years in the academy, but Jim _seriously_ doubted that. Half the time his door wouldn’t register him and he would have to override the control panel just to get inside his room. Though, the one good thing about it was the fact that he didn’t have to share it with anyone.

Jim sat up and groggily yawned into the palm of his hand. Winter break had just started and this was the first time in a long time that he was finally able to get a good night’s rest. Speaking of which, if today was his first day of winter break that also meant he should call up his brother. He slipped back into some clothes tidied up his the best he could and pulled out his PADD to call Sam. The call rang out for a few moments before he was greeted by his cheerful looking sister-in-law.

“Jim!” She beamed. In the background of the call, he could hear little kids playing about.

“Hey there Aurelan, happy Hanukkah.”

"Happy Hanukkah." She said back. All of a sudden, one of the kids came catapulting into the frame, toppling into his mother’s side and shoving himself right in front of the screen.

“Uncle Jim!” He said through smiling, crooked teeth.

“Hey there bud, how ya been?”

“Mom’s pregnant again!” Surprised, Jim was about to make a comment when Peter began rambling. “Oh, and I got chocolate coins. On the first day last year mom got me a dreidel so I thought that’s what I would get this year but I didn’t! I still have the dreidel from last year though. If you’re coming over again, we can play.”

“Sorry, Pete. I wasn’t able to fit in the trip to Deneva this year.” Jim said, taken back.

“Aw!” He stuck out his bottom lip. “You never come anymore!”

“Honey, uncle Jim is busy at the Academy” Aurelan started. “Why don’t you go grab your father?”

Jim watched as the little boy hopped down off his mother’s lap and walked out of frame.

“Sorry about that Jim. I wanted to tell you sooner but Sam thought it’d be a nice holiday surprise.” She laughed quietly to herself. “I didn’t think Peter would just come out and say it like that.”

“Kids, what can ya do? So, are we finally getting a little girl?”

“Nope,” She laughed. “Yet another boy. Probably a good thing too. If you had a little niece to look after I know you’d just spoil her rotten!” Aurelan teased. But that look of joy soon subsided to something more serious, more sad.

“I really wish you were able to make the trip, Jim. I know how the boys would just have loved to see you.”

“I miss you guys too.”

She smiled, tucking a strand of curly brown hair behind her ear. “Promise me you’re not going to be spending your whole break alone, okay?”

“Aurelan‒”

“Promise.”

“I promise. I’ll mostly just be hanging out with friends. Maybe I’ll even go home with Bones this Christmas?”

“Doesn’t Leonard have a daughter?”

“Yeah, but he rarely gets to see her. I doubt they’ll be able to spend the holidays together.”

_Vzzzt. Vzzzt._

His phone vibrated, neglected on the carpet beside his bed.

“Hey Aurelan, it's been great talking to you, but I’m gonna have to be going. Tell Sam ‘hey and happy holidays’ for me, okay?”

“Of course, but you need to call more often!”

“Yeah, yeah. See you guys later, love ya.”

“We love you too, sweetheart.”

And the screen went black.

Some part of him was happy that Sam wasn’t the one to pick up. It wasn’t that he necessarily didn’t like his brother, it was the fact that the two of them hadn’t had a good relationship in years. After Sam left, Jim really had no one. Sam was the one who took care of him, the only person who was on his side when it felt like the world was against him. But then came Sam’s 18th birthday. And all of a sudden, without so much as a goodbye, Sam had disappeared.

Perhaps it wasn’t as sudden as Jim had thought when he was young. It was not as though he could blame Sam now for leaving, he himself had tried to run away from their abusive uncle several times in his own youth. No, Jim couldn’t hold Sam accountable to the fact that he saved himself. That didn’t change the fact, however, that Jim secretly wondered if his brother cared about him at all. Throughout all those years that he was alone with Frank, Jim had to endure more abuse and trauma than he ever had with Sam there to protect him.

And then there was Tarsus IV.

Years later, Sam found him again. Now an adult, Jim had also left that small farm-house in Iowa and sought out a new life in Starfleet. Sam tried to apologize but it didn’t really matter to Jim anymore. What was done, was done. There was nothing that hurt feelings or apologies could do about it. But it would be a lie to say that it didn’t affect them anymore.

Those kinds of things can’t help but put a damper on a relationship.

_Vzzzt. Vzzzt._

His phone went off again. His back cracked as Jim leaned forward to pick the phone from the ground. There were two messages from Spock.

**_Though a specific time was not previously stated, I do recall that we agreed on Monday morning for our meeting time._ **

**_I have not intended to do or say anything that would be considered an offense to you._ **

Though he wasn’t proud of the fact that he had unintentionally stood up Spock, he couldn't help the fact that the idea of Spock sulking over him did help his ego a bit. Not that his ego was in need of helping.

He sprung up and pressed the call button. Spock picked up almost immediately.

“Hey there, Spock.”

“Hello, Jim.” His voice was low and resonant. The two of them hadn’t so much as texted since their ‘chess game’ and just hearing Spock talk like this about made Jim’s toes curl. He shook off the feeling as he slipped into his jacket and grabbed a couple of cloth bags.

“Sorry that I’m running late, I guess I slept in a bit.” He took a quick look at the time‒  it was already almost lunch time. “Okay, maybe a little more than a bit. Are you still at the cafe?”

“Yes, I have been conversing with Uhura. She had advised me that you were most likely ‘catching up on sleep’ as she had called it.”

“Yeah...have you eaten lunch yet?”

“I have not.”

Jim opened the door and headed outside.

“Stay where you are, I’ll be there in a minute.”

 

* * *

 

The path was crowded with stalls selling all sorts of goods from near and far. Sure, the interstellar foods store was good for finding specific items quickly, but if Jim had to choose, this is where he would shop.

Powdered spices lay in rust red and dark yellow piles, fresh meat hung from hooks, exotic fruits stacked together in hand-woven baskets, rich and unfamiliar scents cut through the air‒  so heavy that Jim could practically taste them in his mouth. When the summer hit this place would be swimming with people from all over, but today it was only the locals that patronized the small vendors.

Spock didn’t say anything, just strolled soundlessly at Jim’s hip as the two of them eyed the wares. Jim knew that if they were anywhere, they would have to be here. He grabbed Spock’s hand, pulling him along as he rounded the corner.

“Have you ever tried latkes?” Jim slipped his hand lose before picking up an oddly shaped vegetable and smacking its side.  

“Pardon?”

“Latkes, they’re kinda like a fried potato pancake.” He shook his head and picked up another. “Anyways, my mom used to make them every Hanukkah when I was young but she thought it was fun to experiment with new things. One year instead of potato she used bir'vial. It’s an Andorian vegetable, kinda like a potato mixed with a zucchini. I honestly have no idea where she even got it.” He finally glanced over to Spock who was looking down at his hand.

Jim watched as Spock stretched out his fingers and then brought them back in as if studying the feeling. He forgot.

“Shit sorry. I didn’t mean to just… well, you know. I didn’t mean to in public, I mean.”

“I do not mind.” He quickly and easily brought his hand back to his side. “I understand that humans do not have the same ideals as Vulcans regarding physical intimacy.”

“Ah, I see.” He turned back to the produce. The air spun hot out of his nose. Sometimes, he just had no idea what to say to Spock. And it was times like these, where the conversation faded, that he could really tell just how different they were. Sure, he liked Spock for his differences, but sometimes it was just so evident that they were there. His secluded nature was like a fence, sure Jim could see and hear what was on the other side, but the only way to get there would be to climb, or dig a tunnel, or tear the whole fence down. And for Spock and him, none of these were really viable options.

“My mother would also make latkes.” Jim whipped his head around.

“Really?”

“Despite living on Vulcan, my mother often kept many of her Earth traditions, this included some Hanukkah and Christmas customs.”

“You’re Jewish?” He still couldn’t believe it, what were the odds?

“Correct. Though, neither my mother nor I are practicing. She had considered our celebrating to be a cultural affair.”

That’s when he thought of it.

“Wait! I’m not keeping you from spending time with your family right?”

“Incorrect. All of my family members are currently off world and I have no intention to make a trip to Vulcan.”

“I see.” He said, even though he honestly didn’t know what to say. Right when he thought he had figured something out about Spock, he goes and shows Jim this new side to himself.

At times, he forgets, that sometimes to get through to someone it is not a journey, sometimes it is as easy as opening a gate.

Jim picked up yet another plant, this one vaguely resembling an eggplant. He had looked up bir'vials before making his way to the market, but one problem with that was the fact that they often came in different colors, depending on where they’re grown. Therefore, it was difficult to find them amongst the rest of the wild produce. What he could find though, were some locally grown things that would make for a nice salad. Jim turned to the saleswoman.

“I’ll take a couple of fennel and one bunch radishes, please.” She nodded and started to bag up the groceries. Jim then turned to Spock, thrusting another reusable bag into his hand.

“Wanna go find me a couple of pomelos? Or if you can’t find those just a grapefruit or an aglsomi?”

“Affirmative.” Spock said like taking an order then turned languidly on the heel of his foot and headed off. Jim could have sworn that Spock looked like he knew where he was going, and honestly, he probably did. Spock was the kind of person to have this whole place mapped out from the moment he stepped within ten meters of it.

The woman handed Jim the bag of produce and he made his way about the grounds. There weren’t many non-human people at this market, which was something surprising to him. He would have to assume then that all of these people got their foreign product from other sellers.

And usually, if that were the case, he wouldn’t trust any of the rare items to be legitimate. Though, when he caught the eye of the practically fluorescent blue bottle of Antarean brandy, he couldn’t help himself but buy it. It was a rare find, and so what if he splurged a bit for it? It was the holidays after all.

“I believe these are the plants you were searching for.” Jim hadn’t noticed the fact that Spock had made his way over to him. There, sitting only two stalls away, were about a dozen bright, orange-colored bir'vials.

“Yes, those are perfect!” He said though the vendor was already picking them up and piling them inside his reusable bag that Spock was holding for him. Jim turned to Spock. “You didn’t have to buy them for me.”

“If you are both cooking and offering to host me, I believe it is customary to give something in return.” Jim smiled at this.

“I never said I’d be the only one cooking.”

Spock looked ruffled.

“I find that I cannot disagree with that statement.” He then took the bag of vegetables from the woman and turned back to Jim. “Shall we depart?”

“Actually, I wanted to stop at one more place.” He said, already walking in the direction of it. He knew Spock would follow, didn’t he always?

The two men made their way out of the bustle of the farmer’s market and into a small shop that was dimly lit and smelled vaguely of roasted tomatoes. Jim always loved going into here, it had an old feel to it. It was as if this place was shoved into some back street corner in the late 20th century and forgotten about. It looked like an old movie set, the walls dotted with worn photos of people with too big hair and cars that looked just like his dad’s. The only clear sign of modern society was the bright menu screens that illuminated the entire shop.

He turned to Spock, who also seemed to be taking in the scenery. He didn’t so much as question Jim, as he just looked at him. His eyebrows pinched together and the ends raising to put on a display that signature Vulcan look of “what the hell are you thinking?” But Jim didn’t need him to actually ask it.

“I thought since it’s probably gonna take some time to actually cook a meal, we could grab a quick bite to eat and then head back to my place.”

“That sounds acceptable.”

Jim just grinned and maneuvered his way up to the counter. Spock followed, both hands tucked neatly behind his back. They waited, watching as a man in the back finished turning out dough with his bare hands. After a moment he looked up though he didn’t really acknowledge them at the counter, just merely mumbled something to another worker.

“Jimmy!” All of a sudden an old looking, stocky man waddled into view.

“Fan! How have you been?”

“Good, good. Business is here and there, but that is how business always is. How has Starfleet been treating you?”

“Good, I’m on holiday break right now.”

“Oh! Happy Hanukkah!” He giggled like a young boy when he spoke‒  like there was youth hidden somewhere within his withered frame.

“Thanks. Spock and I are just on our way home from the market and thought we’d stop in for something quick to hold us over since neither of us really had lunch.”

“Oh well, hello there Spock, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Hello, I am also pleased to meet your acquaintance.” He was stiff and seemed uncomfortable.

“So what would you two want?”

“You can give us a second, we might take a while.” Jim waved him off causing Fan to just shrug and hobble back over to talk to the other worker.

Though even after this, Spock didn’t seem to deflate.

After a beat and with great caution, Jim slipped a tentative hand into the small of Spock's back. He knew that this probably wasn’t the best time, but Spock _did_ say that Jim touching him at the very least did not bother him. Spock didn’t even flinch, just continued to study the screen with menu items. Jim rationalized this was due to the lack of skin on skin contact.

“What do you want?”

“What we purchase has no impact on me. Though, it would be preferable if the item of your choosing is vegetarian.”

“I was thinking the same thing. You wanna bring it back to my apartment? Or we could just eat it here.”

Spock turned around, observing the atmosphere.

“There is minimal seating area.” Jim figured that was his way of saying he wanted to leave.

“How does pasta sound?” That seemed like an option that would be easy enough to carry out.

“I have no preference.”

“Uh huh, sure you don’t.” He replied teasingly. “Hey Fan, we’re ready.”

Jim knew that he could have just clicked the order button on the items that he wanted, but he also knew that Fan liked to feel useful. It was worth the extra effort for the smile on the old man’s face as he creakily made his way back up to the counter.

“So then, what’ll it be?”

Jim just listed off whatever sounded good as Fan nodded along and typed them out.

“Ten minutes.” And then he waddled his way back into the kitchen.

Jim didn’t notice when he pulled his hand away from Spock’s back, but he felt the need to put it back. He didn’t, of course. Once was enough.

The two of them sat down at the table and Jim could almost immediately taste the silence that would begin to settle. Spock didn’t talk much beyond that of confirmations here and there, in addition to the occasional comment. Jim didn’t necessarily mind his, but it also left something to be desired. He felt at times he didn’t really know much about Spock. Sure he knew the things that really mattered, but what about the little things? What about his childhood? Did he have any siblings? How about pets? What were his dreams in life?

Jim wanted to know everything, but he knew he shouldn’t dig too deep. Spock would tell him when he wanted, right? Plus, it wasn’t as though Spock really knew anything about Jim’s life either.

For now though, he could at least waste ten minutes.

“If you _had_ to get a tattoo _right now_ what would it be and where would it be?”

God, Jim loved the way Spock looked when he was baffled.

“I am finding it difficult to picture a situation in which I would be forced to decide such things.”

“Evil person. A phaser to your head. They say you have to answer it.”

“What is the purpose of their question‒”

“Oh come on Spock, its hypothetical.” Spock just huffed in response, pondering the situation for a moment.

“I suppose I would choose something regarding the teachings of Surak.”

“Why?”

“They are not only important principles to myself but all of Vulcan culture. He began the awakening of my people and he is the reason I uphold many of the morals I do today. It would be a way to honor him.”

“That’s cool. I find tattoos with a meaning behind them to be interesting. Personally, I don’t have anything in my life that has changed me like that besides Starfleet. I guess that’s what I would choose.” He shrugged. “It’s your turn now. Ask me a question.”

Spock looked at him blankly.

“You must choose any profession beyond that of Starfleet.”

Jim had never really though over those things. He never really had a plan in life until Starfleet. Without that influence in his life, he was sure that right now he would just be riding out his days, going wherever the wind took him.

“I don’t really know about that one. I guess when I found Starfleet I was in a pretty bad place in my life. Without it, I don’t know what I’d be doing.”

“If you were not in that ‘bad place’ and you could choose any profession freely then?”

“Secretly, some part of me has always yearned for simplicity‒  for the universe to be peaceful and life to be easy. Maybe I’d be a writer or some sort of historian. I would work a few days out of the week, the rest I would spend just, well, living. I could have a library filled with antique books and just spend all day reading.” Jim lulled, feeling nostalgic for a place that he had never been.

Yes, perhaps a simple life would be one of pleasure, but he could never live that life. He wanted to explore and to learn and to solve all of the unsolvable questions of the universe. Though most of all, he wanted to help people‒  he needed to help people. Jim was the kind of man that was made of something daring. He could never allow that to go to waste sitting in a library all day.

“You?” He finally asked after a moment.

“I suppose if Starfleet were not an option, I would have been forced to join the VSA.”

“Forced?” He asked exasperatedly. “Wouldn’t it be considered an honor to be enrolled in such well known and prestigious school?”

“As I found myself to disagree with many of their… morals, I had made the decision to join Starfleet in its stead.” He averted his eyes when he spoke, and though Jim had told himself before not to pry, now he really couldn’t help it.

“‘Disagree with many of their morals?' What do you mean by that?”

Spock didn’t respond for a while, just shifted slightly in his seat. Jim was about to tell him that he didn’t have to answer when he finally spoke.

“...The elders at the VSA had stated that they considered my half-human heritage to be a disadvantage as well as the fact that since childhood I have had the condition known as L’tak Terai. They insulted not only me but the entirety of my family. ”

“Oh my god! Uhura was right. You really did punch one of the officials at the VSA!”

“That rumor is false. I simply declined their offer.”

“Which to the VSA that might as well have been a slap to the face.” Jim chuckled at the idea. “And to think, I never knew _you_ were actually the bad boy in this duo. God, you really should have just flipped them off when you left. Could you image! The looks on their faces. Now that’s how you’d get a vulcan to show emotion.”

Right then Fan, who had somehow snuck up unnoticed, set down two to-go containers on their table.

“I hope you boys enjoy. Come in and see me more often.”

Jim smiled as Spock picked up the food.

“Of course. Happy holidays, okay?”

“Happy holidays you two.”

Is all he heard as he held open the door for Spock and the two of them slipped back out into the cool San Francisco streets.

 

* * *

 

Thankfully, his apartment opened up on the first try. That would have been embarrassing, having Spock watch him break into his own room, especially considering the fact that Spock had a professor apartment that was equipped with all of the latest features that the academy had to offer.

“You can just set the food down on the counter,” Jim said, pushing his way through the door. Though the second he entered the room, all he could think about were all the things he should have done to prepare before letting Spock into his quarters. Sure, it wasn't dirty by any means, but it was far less clean then he would have liked.

Little pieces of clothing scattered here and there. Half read books tossed about. The still steady whirl of his temperature control running.

“Sorry that it looks like this. The idea to have you over was kind of last minute on my part.”

“I do not mind.”

And then Spock finally‒   _f_ _inally‒_ looked at Jim. All day he had been avoiding glances, but not now. Now, he was staring right into Jim’s soul with eyes that both lit him on fire and made him freeze in place.

“Wanna eat?” Jim asked quietly.

“Yes.” He said with a curt nod.

Jim walked over and picked up the still hot containers, two plates, and a couple of forks. Spock once again trailed behind and sat down at the table when Jim did. He passed out the plate and fork with little to no talking and began to open the container of pasta.

The steam the wafted out from inside practically made Jim salivate. He hadn’t eaten anything all day and he was ravenous. Usually, he would ask Spock if he wanted anything before digging in himself, but since they were sharing, he wanted him to feel comfortable just taking what he needed.

Jim slapped a big scoop of the green pasta onto his plate and then surrendered what was left over to Spock. He took the same amount, albeit more delicately and cleaner, but in a moment they both seemed to be chowing down on the delicious, garlicky noodles.

“You like it?” He asked through a bite. Spock held a napkin to his mouth and nodded. “I was hoping you would. I know that vulcan food had to be pretty different, but I guess you have to like human food enough to live here, right?”

“I hold no particular preference for any sort of cuisine.” He then picked up his fork, carefully twisted a wad of noodles around the prongs, and lifted it to his mouth.

If Jim had to describe the way Spock ate, he would have to say it was almost bird-like. He was cautious, never taking to big of bites, never slopping on himself. He picked at the edges of things and chewed in tiny movements with the front of his mouth. It made him want to just throw his whole forkful at him.

He wanted to watch his face get splattered with the green avocado sauce. The look of confusion and anger that would pass through his eyes. What if he could get mad enough to even fight back at him? He wanted to see him messed up. His perfectly combed hair ruffled and his skin on fire. He wanted to unfold Spock piece by piece.

Okay, maybe Jim didn’t want to _just_ throw food at him.

So instead, he stretched his leg out as far as he could, lightly kicking the other man’s shin. Within an instant, Spock’s head snapped up to look at him. So, Jim did it again. He was considerably shorter than Spock, therefore reaching him wasn’t the easiest of tasks, but he was just close enough to tap him with the tip of his toes.

“Is there any reason that you have taken to kicking me beneath the table?”

Jim purposely shoved his last bite of pasta into his mouth before talking.

“I don’ know wha’ you’re talking abou.’”

“May you also refrain from speaking with your mouth full?” He spoke as though he was almost amused. Jim swallowed and kicked him again.

“You understood what I was saying.”

“Hardly.”

Jim could see it then. His eyes were so different in moments like these, softer than Jim had ever known eyes to be. All of the muscles in his face finally relax and the corner of lips tilt up in what Jim _knew_ was a smile.

“Are you finished eating?”

“Yes.”

He walked over and grabbed Spock’s plate along with his own. Spock picked up the left-over food. They made their way over to the kitchen.

“You know, even though it’s gonna take a while to cook everything, we’re still gonna have a lot of time until dinner.”

He was anxious. He knew that that was very unlike him, but it was true. Jim knew that if he started this, it would be so much more than a one time fling. And honestly, that thought scared him.

People left, they always had and they always would. Even Bones had a daughter that he had to drop everything for time and time again, not that Jim would ever hold that against him. But still, everyone who he has ever known had to leave him at some point or another. Jim had learned to not get too attached, to not hold on too tight. Because if‒ or rather _when‒_ they left, he didn’t want to get hurt.

But Spock?

“What are you suggesting?” His voice not only resonated about the empty apartment, but underneath Jim's skin and inside his bones.

Jim turned around and Spock was already dangerously close. How could such a tall man move without a sound?

Jim’s stomach knotted but he couldn’t help himself. Without so much as a second thought to talk him down, he lunged forward, stealing Spock's lips and shoving him hard against the counter.

He could deal with the consequences later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas in July? More like Hanukkah in June! I hope you liked this chapter. I know there's not a lot of action in this one but I think you'll like where the next chapter starts off. Fair warning, next chapter is where the explicit rating will start to come into effect. As always, my work is not beta read so feel free to comment any mistakes (or compliments) that you would like. Either way, thank you again for reading and I'll hope to see you in the next chapter! (:


	8. A Very Vulcan Hanukkah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there everyone! Just as a warning, this chapter is almost entirely smut. Plotwise, if that is not your thing then you can either skip to the end or to the next chapter entirely. Anyways, this is my first time ever writing smut this in depth so I hope you all like it! (:

 

He wrenched his eyes shut and moved his lips against Spock’s. Even though Jim knew that the other man was already pressed back against the kitchen counter, he couldn’t help himself but continue to push harder into him. Spock’s lips were firm and demanding and somehow not at all how Jim remembered them to be. Despite this, they were just as alluring. Jim combed his fingers through Spock’s hair as he began to nip at the other man’s bottom lip, tempting them to open. 

Spock was as stiff as ever, pin straight and limbs unmoving. Jim swallowed a huff as he opened his eyes in defeat. The man that stood in front of him was unlike any vulcan he had ever seen. His pupils were blown wide, his breath ragged, and cheekbones flushed this brilliant shade of dark green.

“Is this alright?” Jim asked, still close enough to feel the heat practically radiate off of the other man. 

Spock didn’t respond right away, just stared, wide-eyed, at him. It was as if every fiber of his being was trying to wage war on one another. He looked desperate, confused, and mind-numbingly intense. Jim wanted to devour him.  

“Yes.” It was almost a whisper, almost a growl.

And that was all Jim needed to let himself go completely. He moved to lace his arm around Spock’s waist but all of a sudden Spock was pushing forward the rest of the way and covering Jim’s mouth with his own.

Jim’s lips open in a muffled moan and Spock seized this opportunity, using it to _finally_ slip his tongue into the other’s mouth. Jim’s hand tightened and tangled in the strands of Spock’s hair and lapped at the saliva forming in the corner of Spock’s mouth. It was a kiss that was sloppy to say the least, consisting of heavy breath and perhaps too much tongue. Still, it was one that set them both on fire. 

As Spock continued to explore Jim’s mouth, he simultaneously pushed him back and across the room until it was Jim who was now shoved up against the counter. Jim reached up on his tiptoes until he could slip his bottom onto the tabletop, pulling Spock between his legs.

 “Ah!” A thrill ran down his spine and he couldn’t help but exclaim at the feeling of Spock’s erection against his own. Jim turned his head to the side, but Spock didn’t stop. He continued to lick and kiss and suck at the corner of Jim’s lips and curve of his neck. 

Everywhere skin touched they both could feel the other’s emotions bleed over. The want and need and pleasure mingling, becoming one. It was something vulnerable, yet immensely intoxicating.

“Spock.” Jim finally was able to choke out. Spock made no real response, just hummed into the skin of Jim’s neck. With a huff, Jim grabbed Spock by the side of his face and peeled him off. They locked eyes for a moment and a look of desperation passed between the two of them.

Jim twisted playfully at the now emerald tips of Spock’s ears. But in a moment one of those hands were slipping down in length of Spock’s body. Lower and lower until his hand brushed against Spock’s groin that strained the front of his slacks. He palmed at it, and Spock desperately tried to keep himself from thrusting into the friction. He was beautiful, the way his eyes fluttered closed and his head lulled back and his teeth dug slightly into the swollen flesh of his bottom lip.

Spock’s face bloomed before him and Jim couldn’t help but smile.

“Wanna take this to the other room?” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of Spock’s ear lobe.

The other room, of course, was Jim’s bedroom. Spock’s eyes snapped open as if Jim had awakened something within him. He looked just as hungry as Jim felt. Both hands went to Jim’s shirt, shoving it up his torso, exposing him further before Spock splayed his fingers over Jim’s back. He ran his hands up to the sides of Jim’s spine as if basking in the feeling of his taut muscles.

And then Spock was slipping his hands down to the underside of Jim’s ass, pulling their chests flush together and lifting Jim up off the counter with ease. 

“Woah there!” He exclaimed, wrapping his legs around Spock’s waist for stability. Spock walked gracefully and effortlessly into the bedroom. Light, loving giggles began to bubble up and out of Jim’s mouth. Closing their lips with another kiss, Spock drank in each laugh, making himself drunk on them. He only came up for air when he laid Jim gently down on the bed.

Jim, with his legs still relentlessly tight around Spock’s frame, tugged him down on top of himself. This was the little bit of friction he needed. With Spock laying over him, Jim ground their erections together. Spock moaned into his ear, a full, hearty moan that Jim could hardly believe would ever leave that man’s mouth.ground

So, he did it again. 

And Spock once again tried to bite down the raw, gasping sound that came from him.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you liked that.” Spock just glared at him and sat up. With quick and tentative hands Spock reached for the zipper of Jim’s pants. 

“Spock...” Jim said within the depths of a dangerously sweet moan. “Are you sure? You know if you aren’t comfortable…” He whispered in a voice that wasn’t even convincing to himself. They both wanted this, that much was clear, but he still felt the need to say it. To let Spock know that if at any time he was too overwhelmed, he could back out.

“If I recall correctly, I had previously stated that I did indeed want this.” He reached his hand into Jim’s pants and tugged lightly at his erection. “That I want _you_.”

This made Jim _positively_ shiver.

“Oh fuck.” He slurred, finally allowing Spock to slip his pants and briefs over the round of his ass and down his thighs.

Spock let out a shallow breath as he took in the sight.

With everything exposed and splayed out in front of him, Jim looked beautiful. 

He was solid and yet not overly muscular, he had a fine line of bronze hair that crept from his belly button all the way down to his groin, and everywhere‒  _everywhere‒_ was tainted this tantalizing shade of rosy pink.

He was busy staring when Jim reached out, tugging lightly onto the hem of Spock’s shirt.

“Sorry, I didn’t… uh… prep for this so we can't...well you know."

"I understand." 

"I think I have lube in my side table.”

Spock nodded and slid off of him. As he opened the drawer Jim sat up a bit to fully peel off his shirt that had been riding up. Now that he was naked, he felt strange that Spock was still fully clothed. He kicked his feet over the side of the bed and wrapped his arms around Spock,  beginning to unzip his pants from behind. 

“Jim.” Spock growled as if a warning.

“Come on, you can’t expect me to be the only one getting naked.” He slipped his pants down, leaving the tight, black underwear. His legs were long and hairy, Jim just couldn’t help but run his hands down them as he waited. Spock stepped out of the pants, having finally found the small pink bottle of lube. He turned and made his way back to Jim, crawling on top of him with his hands and knees. He looked at Jim like a predator looked at its kill.

“Up.” Jim commented to Spock while motioning toward his arms. He complied, lifting his arms up in the air as Jim once again stripped him. The shirt was quickly discarded on the side as Spock poured a generous amount of lube into the palm of his hand. In a moment that same hand curled without a second thought around Jim’s length. Jim stifled his gasp with a hand over his lips as he bucked into the touch. 

Spock could understand everything that Jim was feeling through their touch alone. The excitement and passion bled over as he pumped his hand around Jim’s erection. He could feel the strain of his skin, the way he hardened, the erratic roll of Jim’s hips that sought out more and more friction.

Jim dragged his hand away from his mouth and to the nape of Spock’s neck, pulling the man down to him. Their breath mingled as Jim lunged forward and captured his lips once more. Spock moved his hand in time with his mouth as he focused on Jim’s pleasure. He sucked and he bit and he tightened and he pumped until Jim was made of nothing but involuntary spasms and shudders.

“Ah, so good. You’re so good.” He moaned, sucking at Spock’s neck and shoulder.

"What would you like?"

"More." Jim moaned out and Spock couldn't help but comply. 

He pumped faster, harder, and Jim could help himself but painfully tug at the other's black hair. “Spock!” Jim let go as a cry tore itself from his lungs. He came, his erection pulsing in Spock’s grip as his cum spilled all over their stomachs.

Spock continued to pump his hand slowly until Jim no longer chased the feeling. Jim panted wet and hot into Spock’s ear, mumbling sweet nothings that he could hardly understand.

“Did you find the experience enjoyable?” He asked coyly and Jim just chuckled.

“If I say no would you do it again?”

“Yes.” He said truthfully and without any sort of hesitation.

“Well too bad,” He flipped him over, having gained his second wind. “because that was amazing.” He knew that Spock was almost three times stronger than him, but he also knew Spock well enough that if Jim just lightly shoved him, he would fall immediately. 

Jim brought one hand to the curve of Spock’s hip. Then, he sank down, lips kissing I line from the wiry hair on his chest to the bulge in his briefs. Jim kissed him through the practically soaked fabric and Spock had to stifle a groan. Though, as he began pulling at the waistband, Spock's hand immediately snapped down. Jim stopped and looked up through glossy eyes.

"What's wrong?" Though Jim wasn't really keen on stopping, he would. If Spock needed to stop right now, he would in a heartbeat.

  "Jim, there are… things that are to be discussed if… we are to continue." He seemed uncomfortable, and this could only partially be blamed on the fact that Jim's face was only mere centimeters away from his achingly hard penis.

So Jim sat up.

Then Spock sat up.

And despite themselves, both felt the lingering of disappointment.

"And what's that?"

Spock contemplated his words. "As I am sure you are aware, I am partially vulcan as well as human."

"Okay?"

"Vulcans, despite having a multitude of surface-level similarities to humans, differ greatly from them in...certain areas."

Jim just chuckled. "Spock, I don't care if you have a vulcan dick. I've kind of been expecting that, to be honest."

Spock blushed at his bluntness.

"I am only half vulcan. Therefore, my anatomy is neither fully human nor fully vulcan. Those who have seen it consider me to be… particularly different… if not an anomaly."

Jim knew what he was saying.

"You don't have to be ashamed of yourself, okay?" He cupped Spock's cheeks, forcing him to look him in the eye. "I like you, Spock, _a lot._ What your junk looks isn't gonna change that. I'm not that shallow."

"I have never considered you to be shallow. It is just the fact that it is something completely unknown to you."

"I love the unknown. Why do you think I joined Starfleet?"

Jim grabbed Spock's hand and held it tenderly. He pressed their fingers together just as he remembered Spock doing. It felt like sparks, like firecrackers dancing up his arm, and Spock lost all of his ability to breathe for a moment.

"If you really don't want this, then I'll stop, okay? But only if _you_ don't want it, not because you think I don't."

Spock took a shallow breath. "You may continue."

Jim smiled, pulling their hands apart but moving forward to peck the other lightly on the cheek. Then he once again moved down, nuzzling the thick black hair the protruded down underneath Spock's belly button. 

With not so much as a beat of hesitation, Jim pulled down Spock's black underwear. Out popped a swollen, green-tinted penis. It was longer than Jim's, yet thinner, and Jim couldn't take his eyes off of it. The head had two ridges that were dripping with what Jim could only assume was a natural lubricant. And then, when his eyes followed the line of Spock's erection all the way down to its base, he was surprised to find no testicles to be found, just a tuft of black pubic hair.

"Huh, would ya look at that." But Spock couldn't bear to look.

"It is understandable if‒ ah!"  

Jim wrapped his hand around him, tugging slightly and delighting in the differences.

"Are they internal?" 

"Y-yes. Though, they serve no real purpose. As I am a hybrid of my parents' species, I am also rendered sterile." 

"Do all male vulcans have internal balls?" He asked though still continuing to pump his hand. 

Spock withered."Yes."

"Huh, then what's the difference?"

"I have only two glands. Typical male vulcans have four along their entire genitalia." Spock said with a shaky breath. "In addition to this, I possess pubic hair and my penis is considerably larger than that of an average vulcan male."

Jim traced the ridges with his fingers, thumbing the tip. Spock gave himself to the feeling, eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open.

"I like it."

And then all of a sudden Jim was quiet and Spock could feel the ghost of hot breath between his legs. Spock watched as Jim flicked out his tongue to taste the tip of his cock.

"Jim…"

It was salty and not dissimilar to a human. If anything it was thinner, less sour tasting.

Spock’s breath caught in his chest, his hand flying to Jim’s hair, trying desperately to force his hips not to buck.

Jim was buzzing with curiosity and excitement as fingers settled around Spock’s cock and his tongue drew an almost maddeningly slow line from patch of black hair at Spock's base to the very top.

His lips then sank around the head and he sucked, tongue outlining the ridges softly, as he tried to figure out exactly what he was tasting.

Spock was absorbing himself in the feeling as Jim hummed around him. Spock’s hips instinctually jerked forward, forcing himself farther into Jim’s mouth. It was so wet and hot and just felt _so good_ that Spock couldn't help the groans and whimpers that began to leave his lips. 

"J‒ Jim!" He said in a low, needy voice.

Jim’s hand found his hip and held him in place, dragging his lips up Spock’s length and hollowing out his cheeks. When Jim sank down again, his hand moved up and down around the base and Spock could feel shivers singing from every nerve.

"I have to ask you t-to release. I believe I will soon ejaculate." Jim just ignored him and sucked him in deeper, shaking his head from side to side as he went down. He kept going until his nose was buried in the tuft of pubic hair and Spock's cock was pushed against the back of his throat.

This was when Spock lost it.

His spine arched, hands grabbing fistfuls of Jim's sheets as to force himself not to grab onto Jim's head and push him even further.

"Mmmmm, Jim...please." He choked and Jim got the message. He pulled up until only the tip was in his mouth and began bobbing, pumping his hand around the base faster and faster.

Spock clamped his mouth shut, groaning loudly through tight lips as his orgasm rippled through him. His cum was burning hot in the back of Jim's throat and he struggled to swallow it all. 

When Spock's erection finally finished pulsing between Jim's lips he pulled off of him with a prominent _pop!_

Spock once again regained composer and began to speak.

"You were in no way expected to go to such lengths." Spock huffed, lifting Jim's face up by his chin.

"Well, it looked like you were enjoying yourself." He pressed a sloppy kiss to Spock's jaw. "I didn't wanna ruin the fun."

"I would be unopposed to doing the same."

Jim chuckled wearily and slithered up to snuggle against Spock's chest.

"Next time.” He hummed. “Here, pick up my tee shirt." 

Spock complied and Jim then used it to wipe his cum off of the both of them. Sure, they definitely would need a shower later, but this was good enough for now. When Jim was finally done cleaning, Spock lovingly lifted his two fingers up.

Jim knew what this meant, knew that soon they would have to talk about the two of them but for right now all he did was tap the ends of his fingers to Spock’s. He then drifted off, listening to the dull thrum of Spock's heart in his side and the muttering of endearing vulcan words.

This, whatever _this_ was, felt right.

 

* * *

 

Jim awoke alone, yet oddly content. It was as if he knew that Spock couldn’t be far. And when he finally slipped back into a clean pair of underwear, he was delighted to find Spock in his kitchen. The scent of food cooking greeted him in the doorway and he couldn’t help the warm bubbly feeling that rose in his chest when he saw the man’s back. 

Without a second thought he crept up behind him, breathing in his all too familiar scent and pressing himself flush against Spock. Jim lovingly knitted his arms around his waist as the other man prepared a salad, unphased at Jim’s actions.

“How was your rest?” He asked cooly.

“It was nice.” He absentmindedly kissed the center of Spock’s back. “You didn’t have to do that, you know?” 

Jim had just now noticed the already prepared latkas sitting on the counter, steaming and filling the air with the fragrant smell of cooked bir'vial.

“As you had previously stated, you were not the only one planning on preparing the meal.”

“I know but I just feel bad.”

“Feeling bad for something one is doing willingly is illogical.”

Jim slipped his hands free. “Yeah, yeah.”

“If you are upset due to the fact that you were unable to participate in meal preparations then I must offer my apologies. I was under the impression that leaving you to continue your rest would be the most beneficial course of action for both parties.” He continued to look at the food as though he was still busy with it, even though all of the work was already finished. Jim just shook his head helplessly.

“No Spock, I’m alright. I just like spending time with you is all.” He popped one of the radish slices in his mouth between speaking. “I have to piss like you would not believe.”

He then wandered over to the bathroom and hiked down his briefs. Jim had left the door open to continue the conversation. Though he knew it probably wasn’t one of the most appropriate things he could do, he also didn’t really care. If he could just have Spock’s dick in his mouth, then they both could handle hearing each other go to the bathroom.

“Ya know, it’s really weird that this is the same day. I feel like us going to the market was at least yesterday.”

“One of the characteristics of time is that it _is_ a construct of perception.” 

“Maybe it was just because I slept.” He washed his hands and walked into the dining room,  making an effort to dramatically wipe his now wet hands off on Spock’s shirt. Spock set the food that he was carrying on the table and turned around to face the other man.

“Was that necessary?” There was the slightest tinge of annoyance in Spock’s voice and it drove Jim crazy.

“No, that’s why I did it.” Spock’s brow popped up at this. 

“The meal has been prepared if you would like to dress yourself.”

“Is that a requirement?” He said looking down at his practically naked self.

“No,” Spock replied blankly and sat. Jim felt somewhat disappointed at Spock’s lack of playfulness, but he wasn’t necessarily surprised. He knew that the rare occasions that he did, in fact, get Spock to play along with his antics were special ones and tried to never take them for granted. And yet, he never stopped trying.

 “How about this, I toss on some clothes and we’ll eat while watching some holiday movies on the couch? You know, since last time neither of us really ended up watching anything.”

“I would not be averse to this idea, though, this is not standard Hanukkah tradition.”

“Well yeah, but even with my mom we never really were very traditional. Honestly, I don’t even know if I believe in all that, but I guess it’s just a cultural thing now. It’s nostalgic if you will.”

“I understand, then I will make the preparations while you dress.”

Jim was giddy as he made his way back into the bedroom. All the evidence was gone, the clothes that were splayed across the floor, the bottle of lube, Jim’s shirt that they used as a cum rag, were all neatly placed in the corner. Now, all that was left were the sheets, most likely due to the fact the Spock didn’t want to wake Jim.

He tossed on a shirt and decided to forgo the pants. When he made his way back into the living area his stomach flipped. 

There sat Spock, homemade food on the coffee table, a silly Hanukkah movie ready to be played on the television, and him nestled stiffly between two fluffy pillows awaiting him. He looked so homey, so natural to Jim. As if he was always meant to be with him, near him, breathing the same air and inhabiting the same space.

This was the first time Jim felt like this, this sort of anxiety over a person.

“You comfy?”

“Considerably.”

And Jim just melted.

 

 

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks so much for reading. I know that this chapter doesn't really have much plot to it, but that'll be coming up in the next few so you all will have that to look forward to. Also, I once again apologize for the random updates, my personal life has become really busy lately but I hope you all still chose to read this story because I honestly love writing it for all of you. As always, feel free to comment any mistakes or compliments and I'll hopefully see you all in the next chapter! (:

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, thanks for reading my first chapter! I haven't decided yet if I'm going to end up doing any chapters from Spock's perspective, but let me know what you think about the idea. This isn't necessarily AOS or TOS since I'm taking different things from each of their canons, but I'm trying to stay consistent in my Au. Feel free to comment on any mistakes or inconsistencies and I'll see you in the next chapter!


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